3   1822  01084  5881 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO       . 


3  1822  01084  5881 


ALEX  THE  GREAT 


—  A.W..B 


Along   he  comes  with   some  dame  he  must   have  kidnapped   from 

the  Follies  when  Ziegfeld  was  busy  countin*  up  the 

receipts  or  somethin'.      See  page  264 


ALEX  THE  GREAT 


BY 

H.  C.  WITWER 

Author  of  "From  Baseball  to  Boches," 
"A  Smile  a  Minute,"  etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 
ARTHUR  WILLIAM  BROWN 


BOSTON 

SMALL,  MAYNARD  &  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1919, 

BY  SMALL,  MAYNARD  &  COMPANY 
(INCORPORATED) 


DEDICATED  TO 

RALPH  T.  HALE 

— EDITOR   OF   SMALL,  MAYNARD   AND   COMPANY— 

MY   PUBLISHER  — BUT   STILL  MY   FRIEND 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     INTRODUCING  ALEX  THE  GREAT    .       9 

II       THE  SELF-COMMENCER        ...        63 

III  PLAY  YOUR  ACE! 108 

IV  DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP  !.      .      .155 
V    You  CAN  Do  IT! 195 

VI    THE  LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  . 

COUNT 238 

VII    ART  is  WRONG.     ,.     ...      .   273 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Along  he  comes  with  some  dame  he  must 
have  kidnapped  from  the  Follies  when 
Ziegfeld  was  busy  countin'  up  the  receipts 
or  somethin'.  See  page  264.  .  Frontispiece 

PAGE 

I  struck  a  match  and  he  tells  me  they  is 
9)765,543  of  them  used  in  New  York 
every  fiscal  year.  See  page  243  .  .  36 

"  She's  going  to  marry  me,  she's    going    to 

marry  me !"     See  page  262      ...       68 

She's  knittin'  a  sweater  for  me  that  will 
prob'ly  make  me  off  her  for  life.  See 
page  27$  .  .  102 

"  How  perfectly  sweet !  If  you  two  only 
knew  what  a  pretty  picture  you  make !  " 
See  page  2JJ  .  .  .  .  .  .214 

"  Heavens  !  "  says  the  vampire.  "  You  must 
have  .worked  all  your  life  to  acquire  ignor 
ance,  for  no  one  was  ever  born  as  stupid 
as  you  !  "  See  page  jo6  .  .  .252 

When  the  dames  cast  languishing  glances  at 
his  handsome  form,  he  glared  at  them  like 
an  infuriated  turtle  .  .  .  .308 


ALEX  THE  GREAT 


ALEX  THE  GREAT 

CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCING  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

GIRLS,  listen — if  friend  hubby  comes 
home  to-night  and  while  hurlin'  the 
cat  off  his  favorite  chair,  remarks  that  he's 
got  a  scheme  to  make  gold  out  of  mud  or 
pennant  winners  out  of  the  St.  Looey  Car 
dinals,  don't  threaten  to  leave  him  flat  and 
accuse  him  of  givin'  aid  and  comfort  to  the 
breweries.  Turn  the  gas  out  under  the 
steak,  be  seated  and  register  attention — be 
cause  maybe  he  has! 

Scattered  around  all  the  department 
stores,  coal  mines,  'butcher  shops,  the  police 
force  and  banks,  there's  guys  which  can 
sing  as  well  as  Caruso,  lead  a  band  better 
than  Sousa,  stand  Dempsey  on  his  ear,  show 

9 


io  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

Rockefeller  how  to  make  money  or  teach 
Chaplin  some  new  falls.  Yet  these  birds 
go  through  life  on  eighteen  dollars  every 
Saturday  with  prospects,  and  never  get  their 
names  in  the  papers  unless  they  get  caught 
in  a  trolley  smash-up.  They're  like  a  guy 
with  the  ice  cream  concession  at  the  North 
Pole.  They  got  the  goods,  but  what  of  it? 
As  far  as  the  universe  is  concerned  it's  a 
secret — they're  there  with  chimes  on,  but 
nobody  knows  it  but  them! 

Y'know  this  stuff  about  us  all  bein'  neck 
and  neck  when  we  hit  the  nursery  may  be 
true,  but,  believe  me,  some  guys  are  born 
to  run  second!  They  get  off  on  the  wrong 
foot,  trailin'  the  leaders  until  the  under 
taker  stops  the  race.  They  plod  through 
life  takin'  orders  from  guys  that  don't  know 
half  as  much  about  any  given  thing  as  they 
do;  they  never  get  a  crack  at  the  big  job  or 
the  big  money,  although  accordin'  to  Hoyle 
they  got  everything  that's  needed  for  both. 
Take  Joey  Green  who  used  to  be  so  stupid 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  n 

at  dear  old  college  that  the  faculty  once  con 
sidered  givin'  him  education  by  injectin'  it 
into  his  dome  with  a  hypodermic.  At 
forty  he  comes  back  to  the  campus  to  make 
'em  a  present  of  a  few  new  buildin's  out 
of  last  month's  winnin's  from  the  cruel 
world.  Where  is  Elbert  Huntington, 
which  copped  all  the  diplomas,  did  algebra 
by  ear  and  was  give  medals  for  out-brainin' 
the  class?  Where  is  he,  teacher?  And 
the  echo  chirps,  "Workin'  for  Joey  Green, 
drawin'  twenty  a  week  and  on  the  payroll 
as  No.  543!" 

The  answer  to  this  little  thumb  sketch 
is  easy.  Elbert  Huntington  had  brains  and 
Joey  Green  had  confidence.  Elbert  ex 
pected  to  dumfound  the  world  with  what 
he  knew,  and  Joey  did  dumfound  it  with 
what  he  didn't.  Now  if  Joseph  made  good 
with  nothin'  but  nerve,  what  could  a  guy 
do  that  had  brains  and  nerve  both? 

I'll  tell  you. 

After  we  won  the  world's  series  in  1914 


12  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

and  the  dough  had  been  divided  up  to  the 
satisfaction  of  everybody  but  the  guys  that 
was  in  on  the  split,  me  and  the  wife  had 
figured  on  one  of  them  trips  to  Europe. 
You  prob'bly  know  the  kind  I  mean,  "$900 
and  up.  Bus  to  hotel  on  fifth  morning  out 
included."  I  had  looked  forward  to  this 
here  expedition  for  thirty  years,  like  a  guy 
looks  forward  to  eight  o'clock  the  night  he's 
gonna  call  on  his  first  girl.  We  had 
learned  French  and  Eytalian  of!  of  a  phono 
graph  record  and  from  givin'  them  spa 
ghetti  dives  a  play.  Also,  I  had  collected 
a  trousseau  that  would  of  made  John  Drew 
take  arsenic  if  he'd  ever  of  flashed  me  when 
I  was  dolled  up  for  the  street. 

Prob'ly  you  have  seen  somethin'  in  the 
papers  about  how  the  old  country  was  closed 
to  traffic  right  then.  From  what  I  hear 
it  was  all  dug  up  like  lower  Broadway  and 
tourists  had  to  detour  by  way  of  So. 
America,  so  we  never  got  nearer  Europe 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  13 

than  the  Williamsburg  Bridge,  and  you 
can't  see  a  thing  from  there. 

Well,  when  we  found  out  that  as  far  as 
trips  to  Europe  was  concerned  they  was 
nothin'  stirrin',  the  wife  took  both  bank 
books  and  went  down  to  Lakewood,  while 
I  stayed  in  New  York  as  a  deposit  on  the 
new  flat.  I  went  to  the  station  with  her  and 
I'll  betcha  from  the  fond  farewells  we  give 
each  other,  people  must  of  thought  she  was 
gonna  take  the  veil  or  somethin',  instead 
of  just  goin'  to  entomb  herself  in  Jersey 
for  a  month.  I  swore  I'd  be  in  every  night 
at  ten,  although  that's  kinda  late  to  start 
out  for  the  night,  and  she  promised  not  to 
get  in  no  bridge  melees  where  the  sum  they 
battled  for  was  over  six  bits.  Then  we  took 
some  more  bows  on  the  lovin'  good-by  stuff, 
and  I'm  alone  in  the  big  city. 

I  managed  somehow  to  live  through  the 
day,  but  the  next  afternoon  I  lured  a  bunch 
up  to  the  flat  for  a  little  pinochle.  I  begin 


i4  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

by  invitin'  two  guys,  but  by  the  time  we  got 
to  Harlem  we  was  a  dozen  strong.  Once 
inside  the  portals,  it  turns  out  that  only  six 
of  them  is  wild  about  pinochle,  so  the  rest 
of  'em  take  up  the  rugs,  start  the  victrola 
and  give  themselves  up  to  dancin'.  Pretty 
soon  the  telephone  rings  with  great  vio 
lence.  I  grabbed  the  receiver  and  learned 
it  was  the  woman  which  lives  underneath. 

"Them  steamfitters  you  got  rehearsin'  up 
there  has  got  to  call  it  a  day!"  she  says. 
"Otherwise  I'll  -moan  to  the  landlord. 
The  chandelier  has  left  the  ceilin'  already 
and  four  pieces  of  my  chocolate  set  is 
busted.  I  never  heard  tell  of  such  carryin' 
on!" 

"Wait  till  you  been  here  a  little  longer," 
I  says,  "I  ain't  carryin'  on,  me  and  some 
boy  friends  of  mine  is  tryin'  to  kill  a  dull 
afternoon  and— 

"If  them's  friends  makin'  that  racket," 
she  butts  in,  "I  hope  I  have  moved  when 
your  enemies  call!  What  am  I  gonna  do 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  15 

about  that  chocolate  set,  hey?  D'ye  hear 
— there  goes  another  piece!" 

"If  I  was  in  your  place,"  I  tells  her,  "I'd 
drink  coffee,  and  if  your  furnishin's  is  all 
as  frail  as  that  chocolate  set  you're  featuring 
you  better  grab  hold  of  the  piano,  because 
I'm  gonna  sneeze!  " 

"Don't  you  dare  make  no  cracks  about 
my  furniture!"  she  yells.  "I  got  my  opin 
ion  of  what  you  do  for  a  livin'  when  you  can 
afford  to  be  home  in  the  daytime!" 

"I  make  chocolate  sets,"  I  says.  "We're 
workin'  on  one  now  and — " 

"Wait  till  my  husband  comes  home!"  she 
cuts  in.  "He'll  take  care  of  you!" 

"I  don't  need  nobody  to  take  care  of  me," 
I  comes  back,  "I'm  self  supportin'." 

"Why  don't  you  let  go  there?"  yells  Ed 
die  Brannan.  "Are  you  and  that  dame 
doin'  an  act  or  what?" 

Zip!  she  hangs  up  and  just  then  the  front 
door-bell  makes  good. 

"See  who  it  is!"  I  calls  to  one  of  the  gang, 


1 6  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

sittin'  in  the  game  again.  "Tell  'em  I'm  in 
Brazil  and—" 

Oh,  boy! 

One  of  them  dead  silences  took  place  in 
the  hall  and — in  walks  the  wife! 

For  the  next  five  seconds  it  was  so  quiet  in 
that  flat  that  a  graveyard  would  seem  like 
a  locomotive  works  alongside  of  it.  Joe 
Leity  starts  to  whistle  soft  and  low,  Abe 
Katz  opens  the  dumbwaiter  and  looks 
down  to  see  what  kind  of  a  jump  it  is  and 
I  dropped  a  hundred  aces  on  the  floor. 
The  rest  of  the  gang  eases  over  to  the  door. 

"Why — ah — eh — ah,  what  does  this 
mean?"  I  says  kinda  weak.  "I  thought  you 
had  went  to  Lakewood." 

"Well,"  she  says,  turnin'  the  eyes,  that 
used  to  fill  the  Winter  Garden  every  night, 
on  the  gang,  "where  d'ye  figure  I  am  now? 
I'll  give  you  three  guesses!" 

"Ahem!"  says  Joe  Leity,  "I  guess  I'll 
blow!  I—" 

"Me,  too!"  pipes  the  gang  like  a  chorus 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  17 

and  docs  a  few  more  vamps  to  the  door. 

"Why  don't  you  introduce  your  friends?" 
says  the  wife.  "Or  maybe  you  just  run 
across  these  boys  yourself  when  you  come 
in,  heh?" 

"Excuse!"  I  says.  "This  here's  Joe 
Leity,  Abe  Katz,  Phil  Young,  Red  Dailey, 
Steve—" 

"Never  mind  callin'  the  roll,"  she  butts 
in.  "I'll  let  it  go  en  masse.  I'm  de 
lighted  to  meet  you  all,  and  I  hope  you 
won't  run  away  simply  because  I'm  here." 

"Oh,  no — not  at  all — we  ain't  runnin' 
away!"  they  says. 

"There's  no  reason  for  you  boys  runnin 
anyways,"  the  wife  goes  on,  "because  the 
elevator  is  right  outside  now  and  I  think 
the  boy  is  holdin'  the  car  for  you — " 

They  blowed! 

"And  now,"  says  the  wife  to  me,  "what 
d'ye  mean  by  bringin'  them  plumbers  up 
here  for  a  union  meetin',  eh?" 

"Don't  be  always  knockin'!"  I  answers, 


1 8  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

gettin'  peeved.  "Them  boys  is  all  honest 
and  true,  even  if  they  do  look  a  little  rough 
to  the  naked  eye.  But  how  is  it  you  come 
back  to-day  when  you  wasn't  due  for  a 
month?" 

"You're  tickled  to  death  to  see  me,  ain't 
you?"  she  asks,  pullin'  the  pout  that  form 
erly  helped  sell  the  magazines. 

To  be  level  with  you,  I  was — mad  and 
all. 

"Why,  dearie!"  I  remarks,  kissin'  her. 
"You  know  I—" 

"Easy  with  the  oil!"  she  cuts  me  off. 
"Get  on  your  hat  and  coat;  we're  goin' 
right  down  to  Grand  Central  Station." 

"Don't  you  think  it's  liable  to  tire  you, 
honey,"  I  asks  her,  "runnin'  back  and  forth 
from  Lakewood  like  this?" 

"I'm  not  goin'  to  Lakewood,  Stupid,"  she 
says.  "We're  goin'  down  to  meet  Alex 
Hanley — of  course  you  remember  him?" 

I  threw  in  the  self-starter  on  the  old 
brain,  but  there  was  nothin'  doin'. 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  19 

"No!"  I  says.  "To  come  right  out  with 
it — I  don't.  I  realize  though  that  he  must 
be  a  lu-lu  when  we're  goin'  down  and  meet 
him  at  the  station.  What  did  he  do — lick 
Dempsey?" 

"Idiot!"  says  the  wife,  callin'  me  by  her 
favorite  pet  name.  "He's  my  cousin." 

Oh,  boy! 

We  was  goin'  down  in  the  elevator  and 
I  sunk  in  the  seat  with  a  low  moan.  In 
the  short  space  since  me  and  the  wife  had 
been  wed,  I  had  met  her  father,  six  brothers, 
four  nephews,  three  cousins  and  a  bevy  of 
her  uncles.  They  all  claimed  they  was 
pleased  to  meet  me,  though  they  couldn't 
figure  how  their  favorite  female  relative 
come  to  fall  for  me — and  then  they  folleyed 
that  lead  up  with  a  request  for  everything 
from  a  job  to  ten  bucks. 

"All  right,  dearie,"  I  says,  finally,  "I'm 
game!  Believe  me,  though,  while  your 
family  is  all  aces  to  me  on  account  of  bein' 


20  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

related  to  you,  I  often  find  myself  wishin' 
that  you  had  been  an  orphan!" 

"I  could  of  married  a  couple  of  million 
aires!"  sighs  the  wife.  "And  to  think  I 
turned  'em  down  for  you!" 

"If  you  had  married  a  couple  of  million 
aires,  you  would  of  been  pinched!"  I  says. 
"What  d'ye  think  this  cousin  of  yours  will 
want  to  start  off  with,  from  your  affectionate 
husband?" 

"Nothin'l"  she  tells  me.  "Alex  never 
asked  a  favor  in  his  life.  Believe  me,  this 
one  is  different!" 

"I  can  see  that  from  here!"  I  says.  "If 
you  claim  he  won't  take  me  for  somethin', 
he's  different,  all  right.  In  fact  I  can 
hardly  believe  he  belongs  to  the  family  at 
all." 

"I  was  brought  up  never  to  brawl  in  the 
open,"  says  the  wife,  "so  I'm  lettin'  your 
insults  go.  This  boy  is  fresh  from  the 
mountains  of  Vermont.  He's  never  been 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  21 

to  New  York  in  his  life  and  he's  comin'  here 
now  to  make  his  mark." 

"I'll  lay  you  eight  to  five  I'm  the  mark!" 
I  says. 

We  was  at  the  station  then,  so  we  had 
to  practise  self-denial  and  quit  scrappin'. 
The  wife  explained  that  she  had  hardly 
got  to  Lakewood  when  she  found  a  tele 
gram  there  from  her  cousin  Alex  sayin'  that 
he  was  comin'  down  for  a  visit.  So  she 
beat  it  right  back  to  meet  him,  not  wantin' 
the  poor  kid  to  breeze  into  a  town  like  New 
York,  all  by  his  lonesome. 

Well,  we  stand  in  the  middle  of  the 
waitin'-room  like  a  couple  of  boobs  for  a 
while,  and  then  a  guy,  which  I  figured  must 
be  a  college  devil  bustin'  into  a  new  fra 
ternity,  comes  gallopin'  across  the  floor, 
slams  a  suitcase  down  on  my  foot  and  throws 
his  arms  around  the  wife's  neck.  He  had 
on  a  cap  which  could  of  been  used  as  a 
checker  board  when  you  got  tired  of  wear- 


22  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

in'  it,  a  suit  of  clothes  that  must  of  been 
made  by  a  maniac  tailor  and  the  yellowest 
tan  shoes  I  ever  seen  in  my  life.  If  he  had 
been  three  inches  taller  and  an  ounce  thin 
ner,  you  could  of  put  a  tent  around  him  and 
got  a  dime  admission.  On  his  upper  lip, 
which  was  of  a  retirin'  disposition,  he  had 
a  mustache  that  was  an  outright  steal  from 
Chaplin. 

I  watched  him  and  my  wife  embrace  as 
long  as  I  could  stand  it  and  then  I  tapped 
her  on  the  shoulder. 

"I  suppose  this  is  Alex,  eh?"  I  says — 
while  he  looks  at  me  for  the  first  time. 

"You  got  Sherlock  Holmes  lookin' 
stupid!"  admits  the  wife.  "Alex,  meet  my 
lord  and  master." 

"Howdy,  cousin!"  hollers  Alex.  "I 
knowed  you  the  minute  I  seen  you  from 
them,  now,  big  ears  you  got.  Y'know  they 
went  to  work  and  printed  your  picture  in 
the  Sunday  papers  last  month  on  a  charge 
of  havin'  won  the,  now,  pennant  for — Well, 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  23 

that's  neither  here  nor  there.  I  come  here 
to  make  good!  A  feller  with  brains  can 
always  do  that  in  these  big  rube  towns  like 
New  York.  Of  course  a  baseball  player 
don't  need  no  brains — you  know  that  your 
self  and—" 

"C'mon,  Alex,"  butts  in  the  wife  quickly, 
seein'  I  was  gettin'  ready  to  grab  Alex  by 
the  neck.  "We'll  go  right  up  to  the  flat 
and  have  something  to  eat.  I'll  bet  you 
haven't  had  a  bite  since  you  left  home — 
you  ought  to  be  starved  by  this  time!" 

"I'd  rather  see  him  shot,  myself!"  I 
growls,  taggin'  along  after  them,  carryin' 
this  bird's  suitcase.  If  they  was  clothes  in 
there,  Alex  must  of  dressed  in  armor  up  in 
Vermont.  The  thing  was  as  heavy  as  two 
dollars'  worth  of  corn  beef  and  cabbage. 
However,  I  figured  I'd  get  back  at  Alex 
the  minute  he  asked  me  for  a  job.  I  was 
all  set  for  this  bird,  believe  me! 

"So  this  is  New  York,  hey?"  he  pipes 
through  his  nose  the  minute  we  get  outside 


24  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

the  station.  He  stops  dead  in  the  street, 
gazin'  up  at  the  big  buildin's  and  then  down 
at  the  crowds  like  a  guy  in  a  trance.  All 
he  needed  was  a  streamer  of  hay  in  his 
mouth  and  the  first  seven  guys  that  passed 
would  of  offered  to  sell  him  the  Bronx. 
He  gasps  a  couple  of  times  and  wipes  his 
eyes. 

"Well,  Alex,"  I  says,  tryin'  hard  not  to 
laugh  in  his  face,  "what  d'ye  think  of  New 
York?  Considerable  burg,  eh?" 

He  shakes  his  head  kinda  sad  and  sighs. 

"I'll  speak  plain  to  you,  cousin,"  he  says. 
"Of  all  the  rube  burgs  I  ever  seen,  this 
here's  the  limit!" 

I  liked  to  fell  down  one  of  them  Subway 
holes! 

"Rube  town?"  I  yells.  "Where  d'ye  get 
that  stuff?  Are  you  seekin'  to  kid  me?" 

He  grabs  me  by  the  shoulders  and  swings 
me  around. 

"Just  you  look  at  that  crowd  of  folks  on 
the  corner  there!"  he  tells  me.  He  points 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  25 

over  to  where  half  New  York  is  bein'  held 
up  in  a  traffic  jam — wagons,  autos,  surface 
cars  and  guys  usin'  rubber  heels  as  a  means 
of  locomotion,  all  waitin'  for  the  cop  to  say, 
"Go!" 

"Just  look  at  'em!"  repeats  Alex,  sneerin' 
at  me.  "From  the  reports  that  have 
reached  me,  this  here's  the  town  where  all 
the  brains  in  the  world  is  gathered. 
There's  a  couple  hundred  of  them  brains 
on  the  corner  there  now,  I  reckon,  and  they 
can't  go  nowheres  till  that  constabule  gives 
the  word!  Huh!"  he  snorts,  turnin'  away. 
"All  just  a  lot  of  rubes,  that's  all!" 

We  get  in  a  taxi  and  all  the  way  up  Alex 
kept  lookin'  out  the  window,  shakin'  his 
head  and  mutterin'  somethin'  about  Man 
hattan  bein'  a  well-advertised  bunk  and  all 
the  inhabitants  thereof  bein'  hicks.  I  don't 
know  whether  he  was  after  my  goat  or  not, 
but  in  a  few  minutes  he  had  it. 

"Listen,  gentle  stranger,"  I  says,  when 
nature  could  stand  no  more,  "I  realize  that 


26  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

New  York  is  nothin'  but  a  flag  station  and 
that  we're  all  Reubens  and  chew  hay,  but 
we  have,  amongst  other  things,  six  million 
merry  villagers,  the  biggest  buildin's  in 
the  world,  the  subway,  gunmen,  cabarets, 
Broadway,  and — well,  a  lot  of  things  that 
you  gotta  admit  ain't  hit  dear  old  Vermont 
as  yet!" 

"And  I  most  sincerely  hope  and  trust  they 
never  will!"  pipes  Alex.  "We  don't  need 
'em!  We  got  good,  clean  mountain  air, 
plenty  of  honest  green  grass  and — and— 
neighbors!  There's  just  a  few  things  you 
ain't  got  in  New  York.  Cousin  Alice  tells 
me  she  was  here  two  years  before  she 
knowed  the  folks  in  the  next  flat.  That 
shows  you  people  is  suspicious.  You  know 
you're  rubes  and  you're  afraid  to  welcome 
the  stranger  for  fear  he'll  sell  you  one  of 
them,  now,  gold  bricks.  I  also  hear  you  pay 
five  and  six  dollars  for  a  seat  at  an  enter 
tainment.  You  sto-called  wise  New  York 
ers  pays  that  much  for  tickets  and  then  go 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  27 

in  and  laugh  your  fool  heads  off  at  a  scene 
showin'  a,  now,  farmer  bein'  stung!  Ha, 
ha,  ha!  You—" 

We  was  up  at  the  flat  then,  and  I  let  him 
rave  on,  tryin'  not  to  get  peeved,  so's  we'd 
have  some  peace  and  quiet  in  the  family. 
I  knew  if  he  kept  on  pannin'  my  town,  I'd 
get  sore  and  bite  him  or  somethin' — and 
then  the  wife  wouldn't  gimme  no  smile  for 
a  month.  Alex  was  a  new  one  on  me  so 
far,  but  I  figured  that  in  a  couple  of  days 
he'd  be  tellin'  the  world  that  New  York 
was  the  greatest  place  on  earth  and  people 
that  lived  anywheres  else  must  be  nutty — 
the  way  they'  all  do. 

After  supper  the  wife  calls  up  a  girl 
friend  of  hers  so's  we  can  make  up  a  .little 
theatre  party.  Me  and  Alex  goes  into  the 
parlor  for  a  smoke,  and  I  asked  him  how 
he  come  to  be  in  our  mongst  if  he  already 
knowed  what  a  hick  town  New  York  was. 

"I  come  here  to  make  good,"  he  tells  me, 
"because,  in  my  opinion,  'this  is  the  easiest 


28  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

place  in  the  world  to  do  that  thing.  This 
town  is  no  different  than  Ann  Harbor  or 
New  Haven,  except  that  it's  bigger — that's 
all!  The  trouble  with  most  fellows  that 
come  here  from  a  small  town  is,  they  let 
New  York  get  under  their  skin  and  it  takes 
their  nerve  before  they  get  started.  Ad- 
vertisin'  is  what  has  made  this  town  what 
it  is  to-day  and  nothin'  else.  It's  easier  to 
make  good  here  than  it  is  in  a  burg,  because 
in  your  own  town  everybody  knows  you  and 
now  fourflushin'  will  get  you  nothin'. 
There's  so  many  people  here  that  a  feller 
can  keep  some  of  'em  guessin'  all  the  time. 
All  anybody  needs  to  get  ahead  here  is 
confidence— 

"Well,"  I  butts  in,  "if  all  a  guy  needs  is 
confidence,  you  ought  to  be  a  knockout! 
What  are  you  figurin'  on  doin'  first?" 

"I'll  look  around  to-morrow,"  he  says. 
"I  wanna  start  off  with  the  hardest  propo 
sition  in  the  town  right  away.  Out  in  my 
town  five  of  us  fellers  formed  a  little  club. 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  29 

Each  of  us  has  swore  to  come  to  New  York 
one  after  the  other  and  make  good  in  six 
months  to  a  year,  just  to  show  you  folks 
how  easy  it  is.  For  one  thing,  we  all  got 
our  own  private  little  plans  for  winnin'  out 
here  and  every  one  of  us  is  goin'  to  go  at  the 
proposition  from  a  brand  new  angle.  I 
was  elected  to  be  the  first  one,  and  that's 
why  I'm  here." 

"Alex,"  I  says,  "you're  an  ambitious 
feller,  and  I  gotta  hand  it  to  you.  I  don't 
doubt  you'll  go  a  long  ways  at  that,  if  you 
don't  get  pinched  for  speedin'.  But  this 
stuff  you're  pullin'  about  dear  old  Manhat 
tan  gets  under  my  collar!  I  hate  to  hear 
you  pan  the  capital  of  the  world  in  that 
rough  way  of  yours,  and  when  you  claim 
it's  a  simple  matter  to  make  good  here,  you 
have  gone  and  pulled  a  bone.  If  it's  as 
soft  as  you  say,  I  must  of  lost  the  combina 
tion  or  somethin',  because  it  took  me  thirty 
years  to  get  over  right  here,  and,  at  that,  I 
ain't  causin'  Rockefeller  or  George  M. 


30  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

Cohan  no  worry!  So  just  to  show  you  that 
your  dope  is  all  wrong  and  that  you're  due 
to  hit  the  bumps  if  you  play  it  out,  I'll  lay 
you  eight  to  five  you  muff  the  very  first 
thing  you  try  here — what  d'ye  say?" 

He  looks  at  me  for  a  minute  and  shakes 
his  head. 

"I  don't  want  to  deprive  my  Cousin  Alice 
of  no  luxuries,"  he  tells  me,  "or  I'd  snap  you 
right  up  on  that." 

"I  see  they're  still  makin'  'em  yellah  up 
in  Vermont!"  I  sneers. 

"D'ye  mean  to  insinuate  that  I'm  a  quit 
ter?"  he  asks  me,  gettin'  red. 

"You  ought  to  be  a  fortune  teller!"  I  says. 

"By  gravy,  I'll  take  you  up!"  he  hollers. 
"I  got  five  hundred  dollars  in  my  left  shoe 
and  I  mig'ht  as  well  add  to  it  now  as  later. 
I'll  bet  you  the  five  hundred  to  your  eight 
hundred  that  the  first  thing  I  tackle  here, 
I  make  good!" 

"You  hate  yourself,  don't  you?"  I  says. 

"Who's  yellah  now?"  he  comes  back. 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  31 

"The  canary,"  I  tells  him.     "You're  on!" 

Just  then  the  door-bell  rings,  and  they 
was  sounds  of  kissin'  by  women  principals 
in  the  hall.  In  walks  the  wife  with  what 
looks  to  me  like  a  opium-eater's  dream 
and  a  Fifth  Avenue  evenin'  gown  model 
conibined.  Alex  takes  one  flash  and  turns 
red,  white  and  blue. 

"This  is  my  friend  Eve  Rossiter,"  says 
the  wife.  "My  husband,  Eve,  and  my 
cousin,  Al-ex  Hanley." 

"Charmed!"  breathes  Eve,  pullin'  a  smile 
that  lit  up  the  room. 

"Me  and  you  both!"  I  says. 

But  Alex  clears  his  throat,  grits  his  teeth 
and  flushes  up.  They  was  a  glitter  in  his 
eye  and  he  begins  to  talk  fast  and  hard. 

"Howdy,  Miss  Rossiter!"  he  says, 
shakin'  hands  like  he  was  bein'  give 
a  knockdown  to  the  new  bartender.  "I'm 
astounded  to  meet  you!  I  just  come  to 
New  York  to-day,  but  if  I'd  of  knowed  you 
was  here,  I'd  of  been  here  long  ago. 


32  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

However,  I'm  here  now  and  better  late  than 
forever,  as  the  feller  says.  I  just  bet  my 
cousin  here  that  the  first  thing  I  tried  my 
hand  at  in  New  York  I'd  make  good.  I'm 
goin'  out  to-morrow  and  show  him  how 
easy  it  is  for  a  feller  to  get  to  the  top  in  this 
here  prize  rube  burg,  provided  he  has  now 
gumption  and  his  methods  is  new.  I'll  see 
you  to-morrow  night  and  let  you  know  how 
I  made  out ;  I  know  you  won't  have  no  peace 
till  you  'hear  about  it!"  He  digs  into  his 
pockets  feverishly  and  grabs  out  a  handful 
of  letters.  "Here's  what  they  thought  of 
me  up  in  Vermont!"  he  goes  on,  never  takin' 
his  eyes  off  the  girl's  face.  The  wife  is 
starin'  at  him  with  her  mouth  and  eyes  as 
open  as  a  crap  tourney,  like  she  figured  he'd 
gone  nutty — and  me  and  Little  Eva  is  run- 
nin'  neck  and  neck  at  tryin'  to  keep  from 
laughin'.  "They  say  a  man  that  can  make 
good  in  New  York  can  make  good  any 
where,"  he  goes  on,  throwin'  the  clutch 
into  high  again.  "/  say  a  man  that  can 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  33 

make  good  anywhere  can  make  good  in 
New  York!  What's  the  difference  be 
tween  New  York  and  Goose  Creek,  Iowa? 
—New  York's  got  more  people  in  it,  that's 
all!  It's  harder—" 

"Alex,  Alex!"  butts  in  the  wife,  finally 
regainin'  control  of  her  voice.  "What  is 
the  matter  with  you?  You— 

"Hush!"  says  Alex,  turnin'  back  to  Eve 
again.  "It's  harder  to  make  good  in  a  lit 
tle  town  than  it  is  in  a  big  one,  because— 

"Alex,  look  here!"  cuts  in  the  wife,  get- 
tin'  sore.  "Miss  Rossiter  ain't  interested  in 
that  patter  of  yours — we're  goin'  to  the 
theatre.  Now  both  you  men  run  along  and 
dress,  we'll  miss  half  the  show  as  it  is!" 

"I'll  be  right  back!"  chirps  Alex  to 
Eve.  "Them  eyes  of  yours  is  simply  now 
dumfoundin'I" 

I  took  Alex  in  my  boudoir  and  while  I'm 
gettin'  in  the  banquet  uneyform,  he  takes  a 
thing  that  was  a  cross  between  a  tuxedo  and 
a  dress  suit  out  of  his  bag  and  dolls  up. 


34  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

When  set  for  the  street,  Alex  was  no  Greek 
god,  but  he  was  fairly  easy  to  look  at,  if 
you  closed  one  eye.  He  wanted  to  know 
what  kind  of  an  entertainment  they  had  at 
the  opry  house  this  week,  and  I  told  him 
I'd  show  him  somethin'  that  had  them 
huskin'  bees,  he  was  used  to  up  in  Vermont, 
beat  eighty  ways  from  the  jack. 

Well,  we  go  to  the  biggest  musical  show 
on  Broadway,  and  instead  of  faintin'  dead 
away  from  joy,  Alex  claims  it  was  rotten 
and  spent  the  night  explainin'  to  Eve  how 
he  was  gonna  take  New  York  the  next 
mornin'.  After  the  show  we  went  to  a  cab 
aret  and  still  no  rise  out  of  Alex.  He  was 
off  the  gay  whirl,  he  says,  and  his  idea  of 
a  holiday  was  to  sit  beside  his  own  fireside, 
readin'  yesterday's  mail,  while  his  wife 
made  the  room  resound  with  melody  by 
hummin'  "Silver  Threads  Among  The 
Gold,"  the  while  knittin'  a  doily  for  the 
front-room  table. 

At  this,  Eve,  which  has  been  gazin'  at 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  35 

Alex  all  night  like  he  was  Coney  Island 
and  she  was  gettin'  her  first  peep,  asks  if  he 
was  married. 

"Don't  crowd  me!"  he  tells  her,  tappin' 
her  arm  playfully.  "I  ain't  gonna  get  mar 
ried  till  I  make  good.  By  to-morrow  night, 
though,  I  reckon  I'll  be  in  a  position  to  talk 
it  over  with  you!" 

"Ooooh!!"  gasps  Eve,  turnin'  a  becomin' 
shade  of  red.  Can  you  tell  me  why  them 
big  league  dames  fall  for  these  guys  like 
Alex?  If  you  can  do  that,  I  got  an  easy 
one  for  you — I  wanna  know  who  started  the 
world.  From  one  flash  at  Eve,  bein'  a  mar 
ried  man,  I  could  tell  where  she'd  be  the 
next  night  when  Alex  called — and  it 
wouldn't  be — out!  The  next  minute  Eve 
laughed  and  tells  Alex  if  he's  got  as  much 
ability  as  he  has  nerve,  he  ought  to  have 
New  York  on  its  ear  in  twenty-four  hours. 
The  wife  asks  him  will  he  kindly  lay  off 
pesterin'  her  girl  friend  to  death  and  quit 
boostin'  himself  for  a  minute,  because  we 


36  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

was  out  for  pleasure  and  he  had  played  the 
one  record  all  night. 

"Go  on,  Mister  Hanley,"  butts  in  Eve, 
"I  love  to  hear  you  talk.  You're  so  dif 
ferent  from  any  one  else  I've  met,  and  I 
really  believe  you  will  do  something  big 
here,  because  you're — well — new!" 

"You  have  remarked  somethin'!"  agrees 
Alex.  "I'm  gonna  show  'em  somethin' 
they  never  seen  before  and  make  'em  like 
it!" 

Well,  he  takes  Eve  home  that  night  for 
a  starter,  and  the  next  mornin'  he's  up 
bright  and  early  at  seven,  ready  to  startle 
Manhattan.  He  said  he  wanted  me  to  go 
out  with  him  and  watch  him  win  my  eight 
hundred  bucks  and  also  to  notice  the  way 
he  worked.  He  picks  up  the  mornin' 
paper,  runs  through  the  "Help  Wanted" 
columns  for  a  minute  and  finally  clears  his 
throat. 

"Aha!"  he  says.  "Listen  to  this— 
Wanted.  High  class  automobile  salesman 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  37 

for  the  Gaflooey  light  delivery  wagon.  We 
have  no  time  for  experiments  and  success 
ful  applicant  must  make  good  at  once.  We 
don't  want  an  order  taker,  but  an  order 
maker — a  real,  live,  simon-pure  hustler 
who  will  start  delivering  the  goods  the 
morning  he  goes  on  the  payroll.  This  job 
pays  ten  thousand  a  year,  if  you  show  us 
you're  worth  it.  Apply  personally  all  day 
and  bring  references.  This  is  imperative. 
We  want  to  see  your  past  record  of  sales 
elsewhere.  Ask  for  Mr.  Grattan,  1346 
Broadway.  If  you  haven't  the  experience, 
don't  come!'  " 

"Well?"  I  says. 

He  puts  down  the  paper  and  reaches  for 
his  hat. 

"They'll  probably  be  a  lot  after  that 
there  job,  hey?"  he  asks  me. 

"About  four  thousand,  I'd  say  offhand!" 
I  grins. 

"Fine!"  he  says,  rubbin'  his  hands  and 
smilin',  "I  love  competition  because  it  puts 


38  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

a  feller  on  his  mettle.  Now  look  here,  if 
I  go  down  there  and  secure  that  job  this 
mornin',  do  I  get  your  eight  hundred  dol 
lars?" 

"What?"  I  hollers.  "What  d'ye  mean, 
do  you  get  my  eight  hundred?" 

"Listen!"  he  says.  "The  bet  was  that 
I  make  good  at  the  first  thing  I  tackle, 
wasn't  it — all  right!  Now  this  here  job 
looks  good  to  me.  Ten  thousand  a  year  is 
nice  money  to  start.  If  you're  fair  minded, 
you'll  admit  that  in  goin'  after  this  job  I'm 
up  against  a  pretty  stiff  proposition.  In 
the  first  place  I  don't  know  no  more  about 
automobiles  than  you  do  about  raisin'  hogs. 
I  never  sold  one  in  my  life.  I  don't  know 
a  soul  in  New  York  outside  of  you,  Cousin 
Alice  and  that  girl  I  took  home  last  night, 
so  I  can't  furnish  no  references  on  my  abil 
ity  as  a  salesman.  The  advertisement  says 
you  have  to  have  'em.  As  you  say,  they'll 
be  thousands  after  that  job.  Fellers  with 
swell  fronts,  high  soundin'  records  in  back 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  39 

of  'em  and  gilt-edged  references.  Now 
under  all  that  handicap,  if  I  walk  in  there 
and  get  the  job,  won't  you  admit  I  made 
good?" 

"If  you  go  down  and  ask  for  that  job 
and  they  turn  you  down,  you'll  pay  me,  eh?" 
I  asks  him. 

"At  once!"  he  says,  firmly. 

"C'mon,  Alex!"  I  tells  him,  puttin'  on 
my  hat.  "I  hate  to  cop  a  sucker  bet  like 
this,  but  maybe  losin'  it  will  reduce  the  size 
of  your  head  a  trifle  and  do  you  good!" 

Once  out  in  the  street,  he  stretches  his 
arms,  pulls  his  hat  down  hard  over  his  dome 
and  stamps  his  feet. 

"Watch  me  close!"  he  says.  "Watch  me 
close  and  you'll  get  some  valuable  tips  on 
how  to  put  yourself  over.  I  told  you  I 
was  gonna  be  new — just  observe  how  I  go 
after  this  job.  The  average  New  Yorker 
who  wanted  it  would  go  right  down  to  the 
office,  present  his,  now,  credentials  and  ask 
for  it,  wouldn't  he?" 


40  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

I  nodded. 

"The  early  worm  catches  the  fish, 
y'know!"  I  says;  "and  in  New  York  here 
—the  town  that  made  pep  and  hustle  fam 
ous — a  man  would  be  down  there  at  six 
a.  m.  waitin'  for  the  place  to  open.  Why, 
there's  prob'ly  a  hundred  or  more  there 
right  now!" 

"I  hope  there's  a  million!"  he  comes  back. 
"It'll  be  more  satisfaction  when  they  hire 
me  over  all  them  others.  Now  I  ain't  goin' 
near  that  there  office  as  yet.  My  system 
gets  away  from  the  old  stuff — just  keep 
your  eye  on  Cousin  Alex  from  now  on!" 

He  buys  a  newspaper,  finds  the  automo 
bile  section  and,  finally,  a  big  display  ad 
vertisement  of  the  Gaflooey  Auto  Company. 
He  takes  out  a  letter  from  his  pocket  and 
on  the  back  of  it  he  marks  the  price,  style, 
and  a  lot  of  other  dope  about  Gaflooey  light 
delivery  wagons  and  then  throws  the  paper 
away. 

"Now,"  he  grins,  "I'm  all  ready,  except  to 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  41 

give  them  folks  my  full  name  for  the  pay 
roll!" 

At  that  minute,  somebody  slaps  me  on 
the  back  and  I  swing  around  to  see  Buck 
Rice  chucklin'  at  me.  Buck  used  to  be  one 
of  the  best  second  basemen  that  ever  picked 
up  a  bat,  till  his  legs  went  back  on  him  and 
he  got  into  the  automobile  game.  I  re 
member  thinkin'  how  funny  it  was  that  he 
come  along  right  then  when  me  and  Alex 
was  talkin'  about  autos. 

"Well,  how  are  they  breakin',  Buck?" 
I  says,  shakin'  hands  and  introducin'  Alex. 

"I  think  I  have  fanned  with  the  bases 
loaded  again,"  he  laughs.  "I  put  in  five 
hours  to-day  tryin'  to  get  the  Mastadon  De 
partment  Store  to  put  in  a  line  of  six-cyl 
inder  Katzes  on  their  delivery  system.  I 
got  a  private  tip  that  they're  changin'  from 
the  Mutz-36  and  the  first  order  will  be 
about  eighty  cars.  Of  course  that's  a  sweet 
piece  of  money  for  somebody  and  every 
body  in  New  York  will  be  there  to-day 


42  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

tryin'  to  grab  that  order  off.  You  might 
as  well  try  to  sell  radiators  in  Hades  though, 
because  Munson,  the  bird  that  does  the  pur- 
chasin',  is  stuck  on  the  Clarendon  and  he 
wouldn't  buy  anything  else  if  they  was  giv- 
in'  'em  away!" 

"Well,  that's  tough,  Buck!"  I  sympa 
thizes. 

"Sure  is!"  he  says,  givin'  me  and  Alex  a 
quarter  perfecto  and  grinnin'  some  more  to 
show  how  disappointed  he  feels.  "But  I 
should  worry!  If  I  lose  that  one,  I'll  get 
another,  so  what's  the  difference?"  He 
turns  to  Alex,  "Y'know  in  New  York  here," 
he  confides,  "we  don't  have  no  time  to  hold 
no  coroner's  inquests  over  failures.  We  for 
get  about  'em  and  go  after  somethin'  else — 
always  on  the  job,  get  me?  You'll  learn 
after  you're  here  a  while — that's  what 
makes  the  town  what  it  is.  If  I  stopped  to 
moan  over  every  order  I  didn't  put  across, 
I'd  be  nowhere  to-day.  Nope,  you  can't  do 
that  in  New  York!" 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  43 

"Another  of  them  there  New  Yorkers, 
hey?"  sneers  Alex  to  me,  after  Buck  has 
blowed.  "Don't  you  see  how  that  feller 
proves  my  argyment  about  how  simple  it 
is  to  make  good  here?  From  the  way  he's 
dressed — them,  now,  diamonds  and  so  forth 
—he's  probably  a  big  feller  in  his  line. 
Makin'  plenty  of  money  and  looked  on  as 
a  success  by  the  ig'rant.  Yet  he  lets  a  big 
order  get  away  from  him  when  it  was 
practically  a  cinch  to  land  it!" 

"Say,  listen!"  I  yelps — this  bird  was  get- 
tin'  on  my  nerves.  "If  four-flushin'  was 
water,  you'd  be  the  Pacific  Ocean!  You 
gimme  a  pain  with  that  line  of  patter  you 
got,  and  as  far  as  salesmanship  is  con 
cerned,  I'll  bet  you  couldn't  sell  a  porter 
house  steak  to  a  guy  dyin'  of  hunger.  I'd 
like  to  see  you  land  an  order  like  Buck 
spoke  of,  you— 

"That's  just  what  you're  gonna  do!"  he 
butts  in.  "You're  gonna  see  me  land  that 


44  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

very  order  he  told  us  about — what  d'ye 
think  of  that,  hey?" 

I  stopped  dead  and  gazed  upon  him. 

"You're  gonna  which?"  I  asks  him. 

"I'm  gonna  land  that  order  from  that 
department  store!"  he  repeats,  grabbin'  my 
arm.  "C'mon — show  me  how  to  get 
there!" 

I  fell  up  against  a  lamp  post  and 
laughed  till  a  passin'  dame  remarked  to  her 
friend  that  it  was  an  outrage  the  way  some 
guys  drank.  Then  I  led  Alex  to  the  sub 
way. 

"Listen,"  I  says.  "What  about  this  job 
you  was  gonna  get?  Of  course  you  know 
if  you  quit,  I  win  the  bet." 

"Quit?"  he  says.  "Where  'have  I  heard 
the  word  before?  Who  said  anything 
about  quittin'?  I'm  gonna  get  that  order 
and  I'm  gonna  get  that  job!" 

"Fair  enough!"  I  tells  him,  "but  you're 
goin'  at  the  thing  backwards.  How  are 
you  gonna  take  an  order  for  autos  when  you 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  45 

ain't  got  no  autos  to  sell?  I  suppose  you 
figure  on  grabbin'  the  ten  thousand  dollar 
job  first  and  then  makin'  good  with  a  loud 
crash  by  landin'  the  big  order,  eh?" 

He  shakes  his  head  and  sighs  pityin'ly. 

"Would  there  be  anything  new  and 
original  about  that?"  he  asks. 

"No!"  I  says,  "there  wouldn't!  But  I 
don't  see  how  you're  gonna  win  out  any 
other  way." 

"Of  course  you  don't!"  he  sneers. 
"You're  a  New  Yorker,  ain't  you?  I'm 
supposed  to  be  the  rube,  simply  because  I 
wasn't  born  on  Sixth  Avenue.  Now  I  al 
ready  told  you  my  methods  was  new,  didn't 
I?  Anybody  would  work  the  thing  the 
way  you  lay  it  out — and  probably  land 
neither  the  job  nor  the  order.  What  a 
chance  would  I  have  goin'  up  there  and 
askin'  for  that  job  first?  Where  would  I 
come  out  against  all  them  sellin'  experts 
with  letters  and  so  forth  to  prove  it?  Why, 
they'd  laugh  me  outa  the  office!  B-u-tf — 


46  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

if  I  go  to  them  with  an  order  for  fifty  or 
sixty  of  their  cars  as  actual  proof  that  I  can 
sell  not  only  autos,  but  their  autos,  what  will 
they  say,  then?  D'ye  see  the  point  now? 
They  ask  me  for  a  reference  and  I  reach  in 
my  pocket  and  give  them  the  order,  which 
I've  got  before  applyin'  for  the  ]ob,  to  prove 
to  myself  and  them  that  I  can  sell  automo 
biles!" 

Oh,  boy! 

"Alex,"  I  says,  when  I  got  my  breath,  "I 
gotta  hand  it  to  you!  When  it  comes  to  in- 
ventin'  things,  you  got  Edison  lookin'  like 
a  backward  pupil.  Go  to  it,  old  kid!  If 
you  put  this  over  the  way  you  have  just  told 
it  to  me,  you'll  own  Broadway  in  a  week!" 

"I'm  figurin'  on  ten  days!"  he  says. 

We  arrive  at  the  Mastadon  Department 
Store  and  shoot  up  in  the  elevator  to  the 
office  of  G.  C.  Munson,  the  general  man 
ager.  Alex  has  been  readin'  the  notes  he 
made  on  Gaflooey  delivery  wagons  like  the 
same  was  a  French  novel,  and,  by  the  time 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  47 

we  got  there,  he  could  repeat  their  adver 
tisement  by  heart.  He  starts  to  breeze 
right  into  the  office  and  some  dame  appears 
on  the  scene  and  nails  him. 

"One  moment,  please!"  she  says,  very 
cold — givin'  Alex  a  look  that  took  in  every 
thing  from  his  hick  clothes  to  his  rube  hair 
cut.  "This  happens  to  be  a  private  office. 
Whom  did  you  desire  to  see?" 

"If  I  thought  they  was  anybody  prettier 
than  you  here,  I'd  ask  to  have  them  brought 
out,"  says  Alex,  in  that  simple  rube  way  of 
his  which  give  no  offense,  "but  of  course  I 
know  that's  impossible.  Still,  as  long  as 
I'm  here,  I'd  like  to  see  Mister  Munson." 

The  dame  melts  and  releases  a  smile. 

"What  did  you  wish  to  see  him  about?" 
she  asks. 

"About  ten  minutes,"  pipes  Alex.  "D'ye 
know  there's  somethin'  about  them  navy 
blue  eyes  of  yours  that  makes  me  think  of 
my  mother — isn't  that  funny?" 


48  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

The  dame  surrenders  and  shows  Alex  all 
her  nice  front  teeth. 

"I'll  see  if  Mister  Munson  is  in,"  she  says, 
handin'  him  a  card,  "but  you'll  have  to  fill 
this  out." 

Akx  looks  at  the  card  which  had  this  on 
it, 

Mr 

Desires  to  see 

Regarding 


He  laughs  suddenly,  takes  out  his  foun 
tain  pen  and  fills  the  thing  out.  Lookin' 
over  his  shoulder  I  seen  him  write  this, 

Mr Alex  Hanley 

Desires  to  see Mr.  Munson. 

Regarding  ....  The  price  of  petrified 
noodles  in  Siberia. 

"There,"  he  says,  handin'  it  to  the  girl 
without  a  smile,  "give  that  to  Mister  Mun 
son." 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  49 

She  takes  it  in  without  lookin'  at  it. 

"Well,  you  crabbed  any  chance  you  might 
of  had,  right  off  the  bat!"  I  says  to  Alex. 
"He'll  get  so  sore  when  he  reads  that,  he 
won't  even  let  you  in." 

"Let  him  get  sore!"  chirps  Alex.  "He'll 
not  only  get  sore,  he'll  get  curious  and  then 
again  I'm  figurin'  on  him  bein'  human,  be 
sides  bein'  general  manager  and  havin'  a 
sense  of  humor!  He's  probably  been  pest 
ered  with  auto  salesmen  all  day — if  I  wrote 
my  real  business  on  that  card  he'd  send  word 
he  was  out.  As  it  is,  he'll  read  it  and  he 
won't  be  able  to  resist  the,  now,  temptation 
to  get  one  look  at  a  feller  which  would  want 
to  know  from  a  man  in  his  position  the 
price  of  petrified  noodles  in  Siberia.  No 
matter  what  happens  afterwards,  he'll  want 
one  look — wouldn't  you?" 

Before  I  can  answer,  the  dame  comes  out 
laughin'. 

"Step  in,"  she  says.  "Mister  Munson 
will  see  you." 


50  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Now!"  hisses  Alex,  as  we  ease  in  on  the 
velvet  carpet.  "Watch  how  I  go  about 
sellin'  autos.  Y'see  I  got  a  nibble  already 
because  I  was  new!  I — Howdy,  Mister 
Munson!" 

We  was  in  the  private  office. 

Munson  was  a  little,  keen-faced  guy- 
bald,  nervous  and  fat.  He  looks  up  over  his 
glasses  with  Alex's  card  in  his  hand — and 
Alex  looks  back.  In  one  second  they  had 
each  found  out  all  they  wanted  to  know 
about  the  other. 

"What's  the  meaning  of  this  nonsense?" 
barks  Munson. 

Alex  walks  over  to  the  desk,  wets  his  lips 
and  gets  goin'. 

"Mister  Munson,"  he  says,  "if  you  called 
on  a  man  at  his  office,  would  you  care  to 
write  your  business  on  a  card  for  the  office 
boy  to  read?  No — you  would  not!  A  big 
man  like  you  would  probably  tear  the  card 
up,  leave  the  office  in  a,  now,  rage  and  never 
return!  You'd  be  insulted,  your,  now,  dig- 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  51 

nity  would  be  hurt,  eh?  You  might  be 
from  out  of  town  and  comin'  here  to  leave  a 
big  order  and  that  little  thing — prob'ly  in 
vented  by  one  of  your  New  York  efficiency 
stars — would  make  you  so  mad  you'd  go 
away  and  order  where  they  wasn't  so  effi 
cient,  but  a  little  more  courteous!  Look  at 
that  card — the,  now,  wordin'  of  it.  Look 
how  cold  and  hard  it  is!  No  warmth,  no 
'glad  -  to  -  see  -  you  -  stranger  what  -  can  - 
my-house-do-for-you?'  about  it.  It's  like  a 
slap  in  the  face!  Maybe  it  does  keep  the 
panhandlers  away,  but  did  you  ever  figure 
how  many  orders  it  must  have  cost  you, 
hey?" 

Munson  has  listened  to  every  word,  first 
with  a  heavy  frown  and  then  with  a  kind  of 
thoughtful  look  on  his  face.  He  taps  the 
desk  with  a  lead  pencil,  reads  the  card  a 
couple  of  times  and  then  slams  his  fist  on 
the  desk. 

"By  Peter,  young  man!"  he  snaps  out  sud 
denly,  "you  may  be  right!  The  wording  of 


52  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

that  office  blank  is  rather  insulting,  now  that 
I  dissect  it — been  too  busy  before  to  notice 
it.  Yes,  sir,  I  would  resent  having  my  busi 
ness  blatted  out  before  a  whole  staff  of  sub 
ordinates  I  There  must  be  some  way,  of 
course,  to  keep  out  the  hordes  of  jobless 
and  what  not  who  would  get  in  if  it  wasn't 
for  that  blank  and  now,  by  the  eternal,  we'll 
find  one  less  liable  to  turn  away  gold  with 
the — er — grist!  I  thank  you  for  the  sug 
gestion.  And  now,  what  did  you  want  to 
see  me  about?" 

"Automobiles,"  says  Alex,  "and — " 
Munson  freezes  right  up  and  slaps  his 
hands  together. 

"That's  enough!"  he  snarls.  "Perhaps 
that  office  blank  of  ours  is  not  so  bad  after 
all!  If  you  had  filled  it  out  properly,  you 
wouldn't  be  here.  I've  heard  enough  about 
autos  to-day  to  last  me  for  the  rest  of  my 
life.  Yesterday,  I  mentioned  casually,  and 
I  thought  in  confidence,  that  we  were  con 
sidering  a  change  in  our  delivery  system. 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  53 

Beginning  at  eight  this  morning,  there  has 
been  a  constant  stream  of  automobile  sales 
men  in  this  office!  The  only  persons  who 
have  not  tried  to  sell  me  automobiles  are 
George  Washington,  Jack  Dempsey  and 
Billy  Sunday!  I'm  quite  sure  every  one 
else  has  been  here.  The  air  has  been  filled 
with  magnetos,  self-starters,  sliding  gear 
transmissions,  aluminum  crank  cases  and 
all  that  other  damnable  technical  stuff  that 
goes  with  automobiles !  You  need  not  open 
your  mouth — I  know  exactly  what  your 
sales  talk  is,  they're  all  alike,  more  or  less. 
Your  car  is  far  and  away  the  best  on  the 
market,  of  course,  and— 

"Excuse  me,  Mister  Munson!"  butts  in 
Alex.  "You  get  me  all  wrong.  Our  car — 
the  Gaflooey — is  not  the  best  on  the  market. 
There  are  others  just  as  good  and  some  of 
the  higher  priced  ones  are,  naturally,  better. 
You  can't  expect  the  best  on  the  market  for 
the  price  we  sell  at — 750.  A  man  of  your 
intelligence  knows  that  and  when  a  sales- 


54  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

man  tells  you  his  five  hundred  dollar  car  is 
better  than  a  standard  make  at  five  thousand, 
he's  insulting  your  intelligence.  We  make 
a  good,  honest  car — that's  all.  I  ain't  gonna 
take  up  your  time  tellin'  you  about  the — eh 
— ah — the — eh,  magneto  and  so  forth.  Un 
less  you're  a  mechanic,  you  wouldn't  under 
stand  about  'em  anyways.  All  the  parts 
that  go  with  any  car  are  on  ours,  or  it 
wouldn't  work — that's  understood.  How 
ever,  as  I  said  before,  I  ain't  gonna  take  up 
your  time.  I  know  how  you  New  Yorkers 
do  business,  and  you've  probably  made  your 
mind  up  already.  You  big  men  are  all  zip! 
— like  that.  Mind  made  up  and  nothin' 
can  change  you.  Even  if  you  do  miss  some- 
thin'  good  now  and  then,  you  don't  mind  be 
cause  you  have  the  satisfaction  of  bein' 
known  as  a  quick  thinker.  We  just  got  in 
a  new  consignment  of  cars  to-day  and  if 
you're  interested  our  place  is  at  1346  Broad 
way.  Well,  good-day,  sir!"  he  winds  up, 
reachin'  for  his  hat. 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  55 

"Wait!"  says  Munson,  takin'  off  his 
glasses  and  wipin'  'em.  "You're  a  new  one 
on  me,  son!  So  you  admit  you  haven't  got 
the  greatest  auto  that  was  ever  made,  eh?" 
he  chuckles.  "By  Peter!  That  sounds 
strange  after  all  the  talk  I  been  listening  to 
to-day.  If  your  car  is  as  honest  as  you  seem 
to  be,  it's  all  right!"  He  sits  lookin'  off  in 
the  air,  tappin'  the  desk  with  the  pencil 
again. 

Alex  nudges  me  and  we  start  for  the  door. 
Halfway  he  stops  and  looks  at  a  photo  that's 
framed  over  the  desk.  It's  a  picture  of  a 
barn,  some  chickens  and  a  couple  of  cows. 

"Right  fine  landscape,  that!"  chirps  Alex 
to  Munson.  "Makes  a  feller  like  me  home 
sick  to  look  at  it.  Them  are  sure  fine  Jer 
seys,  too — and  say,  see  them  pullets,  would 
you!" 

"That's  my  little  farm  down  on  Long 
Island,"  says  Munson,  throwin'  out  his  chest. 
"I  suppose  that  makes  you  laugh,  eh?  Big, 
grown  New  Yorker  having  a  farm,  eh?" 


56  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Mister,"  says  Alex,  sadly,  "it  don't  make 
me  laugh!  I  was  raised  on  a  farm  in  Ver 
mont  and — ' 

"That  so?"  cuts  in  Munson,  lookin'  inter 
ested.  "Country  boy,  eh?" 

"Yep,"  goes  on  Alex.  "Now,  speakin'  of 
them  pullets  there — if  you'd  try  'em  on  a 
straight  diet  of  bran  and  potatoes — pound 
of  each — they'll  fatten  up  quicker." 

"Yes?"  pipes  Munson,  brightenin'  up 
some  more.  "Well,  well!  And — hmph! 
Thanks,  Mister  Hanley,  I'll  make  a  note  of 
that.  Now — eh — sit  down  a  minute!  I 
don't  want  to  take  your  time,  but — eh,  what 
did  you  find  best  back  home  for  saving  the 
young  chicks?  What  foods — " 

"I'll  just  leave  you  a  few  little  rules,"  says 
Alex,  his  eyes  glitterin',  as  he  rams  his  el 
bow  a  mile  in  my  ribs.  "I  got  to  call  on  an 
other  department  store  this  afternoon,  where 
I'm  almost  certain  to  take  an  order  and— 

"Young  man!"   Munson  shuts  him  off, 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  57 

"I'm  frank  enough  to  say  that  you've  made 
a  very  favorable  impression  on  me.  You're 
honest  about  your  car,  and  you  didn't  try 
to  overawe  me  by  hurling  a  lot  of  unin 
telligible  technical  terms  into  my  ear.  You 
don't  claim  it's  the  bargain  of  the  age. 
Now  we  have  recently  inaugurated  right 
here  in  this  store  a  policy  of  absolute  honesty 
with  regard  to  our  merchandise.  No  mis 
representations  are  permitted.  We  sell  our 
goods  for  what  they  are — we  don't  allow  a 
clerk  to  tell  a  customer  that  he's  getting  a 
five-dollar  shirt  for  two  dollars.  I  can't 
get  the  car  I  want  to  put  in  here — they  want 
too  much  money  and  their  salesman  spent 
most  of  his  time  here  speaking  in  terms  that 
none  but  a  master  mechanic  on  their  own 
auto  would  understand.  I'm  a  pretty  good 
judge  of  character  and  you  look  good  to 
me.  Give  me  a  price  on  fifty  of  your  cars 
for  immediate  delivery  and — well,  let's  hear 
your  figures!" 


58  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

Alex  drops  his  hat  on  the  floor,  but  when 
he  picked  it  up,  he  was  as  cool  as  a  dollar's 
worth  of  ice. 

"Just  a  minute,"  he  says,  sittin'  down  and 
reachin'  for  a  desk  telephone.  He  gets  the 
Gaflooey  Company  on  the  wire. 

"Hello!"  he  says.  "Say — I  want  a  lump 
price  on  fifty  delivery  wagons — what?— 
never  mind  who  this  is,  if  the  price  is  right 
I'll  come  up."  He  winks  at  Munson  like 
he's  lettin'  him  in  on  somethin' — and,  by 
gravy, -Munson  winks  back!  "Yes — fifty," 
says  Alex  on  the  wire.  "Thirty-five  thou 
sand  dollars? — thank  you!"  He  hangs  up 
the  phone  and  turns  to  Munson.  "They'll 
give  you  twenty-five  hundred  off,  accordin' 
to  that  figure,"  he  says. 

Munson  grabs  up  a  pad  and  writes  some- 
thin'  on  it. 

"There !"  he  says,  givin'  it  to  Alex.  "Tell 
'em  to  get  as  many  cars  over  here  to-morrow 
as  they  can.  Get  your  bill  and  I'll  O.  K.  it. 
Now — "  he  pulls  his  chair  over  closer, 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  59 

"About  those  chicks  and — oh,  yes,  I  want 
your  opinion  on  some  figures  I  have  here  on 
my  truck — ' 

An  hour  later,  me  and  Alex  walks  into  the 
salesroom  of  the  Gaflooey  Automobile  Com 
pany.  I  was  in  a  trance,  and  if  he  had  of 
promised  to  lift  the  Singer  Buildin'  with 
one  hand  I  would  of  laid  the  world  eight  to 
five  he  could  do  it!  The  whole  place  is  in 
confusion — salesmen  chasin'  around,  tele- 
phonin'  and  actin'  like  they  just  heard  they 
was  a  bomb  in  the  basement.  Alex  asks  for 
the  manager,  and  some  guy  chances  over  and 
asks  what  he  wants. 

"I  have  come  for  that  ten  thousand  a  year 
job  you  advertised  this  mornin',"  says  Alex. 

"Job?"  howls  the  manager,  glarin'  at  him. 
"You  poor  boob,  can't  you  see  how  busy  we 
are  here  now?  We  just  got  a  tip  on  a  real 
order — fifty  cars,  and  we  can't  trace  the 
thing!"  He  rubs  his  hands  together. 
"Fifty  cars!  That's  how  the  Gaflooey  sells 
—fifty  at  a  time!"  He  sneers  at  Alex. 


60  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Your  approach  is  terrible!"  he  says. 
"You'll  never  land  a  job  in  this  town  like 
that,  my  boy.  Go  somewhere  first  and 
learn  how  to  interest  a  'busy  man  with  the 
first  thing  you  say  and—" 

"Listen!"  butts  in  Alex.  "Gimme  that 
job,  will  you,  or  I'll  have  to  go  somewhere 
else." 

The  manager  laughs,  as  a  couple  of  sales 
men  come  along  and  join  him.  They  all 
sneer  at  Alex  and  the  manager  nudges  his 
minions  and  winks. 

"So  you  think  you're  a  ten  thousand  dollar 
auto  salesman,  eh?"  he  says.  "Ah — who 
can  you  refer  to?"  He  makes  a  bluff  at 
takin'  down  notes. 

"Mister  Munson,  of  the  Mastadon  De 
partment  Store,"  says  Alex. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!"  roars  the  manager.  "De 
partment  store,  eh — that's  rich!  You  quit 
the  shirtwaist -department  to  sell  autos,  eh? 
Ha,  ha,  ha!  What  does  a  department  store 


INTRODUCING  ALEX  61 

manager  know  of  your  ability  to  sell 
autos?"  he  snarls. 

"Well, — I  just  sold  him  fifty  of  yours!" 
remarks  Alex.  "So  I  thought— 

"What?"  shrieks  the  manager,  grabbin' 
his  arm. 

Alex  hands  over  the  order  Munson  give 
him. 

"Now  before  I  go  to  work  here,"  he  says, 
"it  might  be  a  good  idea  to  let  me  look  over 
one  of  your  cars,  because,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  ain't  never  seen  one  of  'em  in  my 
life!" 

Well,  they  had  Munson  on  the  phone  in 
a  minute  and  in  another  one  the  manager 
hangs  up  the  receiver  and  comes  back. 

"Do  I  get  the  job?"  asks  Alex. 

"Do  you  get  the  job  I"  yells  friend  man 
ager,  slappin'  him  on  the  back.  "No,  you 
don't  get  it — only  if  you  leave  here  without 
signing  your  name  to  a  five-year  contract 
and  accepting  a  check  for  fifteen  hundred 


62  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

dollars'  commission  and  as  much  more  as 
you  want  to  draw  on  your  expense  account, 
I'll — I'll — murder  you!  But  first,  you 
lunch  with  me  at  the  Fitz-Barlton  and 
we'll  map  out  a  campaign— 

"Gimme  that  eight  hundred  I"  says  Alex 
to  me. 

I  passed  it  over  still  semi-conscious. 

Alex  stretches  his  arms,  puts  the  money 
away  and  grins. 

"Get  me  that  Eve  girl  on  the  phone,  will 
you?"  he  tells  me.  "I — I  had  a  little  bet 
with  her,  too!"  He  lights  the  cigar  Buck 
Rice  had  give  him  in  the  mornin',  blows 
out  some  smoke  and  looks  over  at  Broad 
way,  jammed  with  the  matinee  crowd. 
"Some  burg!"  he  says,  shakin'  his  head  and 
grinnin'  at  me! 


T 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER 
HERE'S  nothin'  the  world  loves  so  much 


as  a  good  tryer.  I  don't  mean  the 
birds  that  havin'  everything  in  their  favor, 
includin'  a  ten-mile  start,  finishes  first  in 
the  Big  Race — I'm  talkin'  about  the  guys 
that  never  get  better  than  second  or  third, 
but  generally  land  in  the  money.  The  old 
Consistent  Charlies  that,  no  matter  how 
many  times  they're  beaten,  figures  the  time 
to  quit  is  when  you're  dead  and  buried! 

Did  you  ever  stop  to  think  that  the  tryers 
which  never  get  nowhere  is  responsible  for 
the  other  guys'  success?  They're  the  ba 
bies  that  make  a  race  or  a  fight  out  of  it, 
and  if  it  wasn't  for  them  dubs  there'd  be 
no  successes  at  all.  In  order  to  have  win 
ners,  we  got  to  have  losers,  don't  we?  And 

63 


'64  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

don't  forget  that  yesterday's  losers  are  to 
morrow's  winners  and  vice-president  or  vice 
versa,  whatever  it  is. 

A  fighter  knows  that  these  birds  which 
come  up  smilin'  no  matter  how  many  times 
he  drops  'em  for  the  count  is  as  dangerous 
as  dynamite,  until  he  knocks  'em  cold.  No 
matter  how  bad  this  loser  may  be  battered 
up,  he's  always  got  a  chance  while  he's  try- 
in'.  I've  seen  guys  that  was  winnin'  by 
two  miles  curl  up  and  quit  before  a  dub 
they  had  beaten  till  the  crowd  was  yellin' 
for  mercy,  simply  because  this  poor 
bunged-up  simp  kept  comin'  in  all  the 
time — battered,  bloody,  drunk  with  wallops 
— but  try  in'  up  to  the  last  bell! 

Now  these  guys  may  never  get  nowhere, 
but  they're  the  birds  that's  put  most  of 
the  guys  that  do  where  they  are.  Why? 
Think  it  over!  You  gotta  be  good  to  beat 
them  birds,  don't  you-?  They  make  compe 
tition  keen,  they  keep  the  other  guys  on  their 
toes,  they're  the  gasoline  that  keeps  the  old 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         65 

world  goin'  forward  on  high  and  the  birds 
that  get  over  are  only  the  chauffeurs.  You 
gotta  have  both  to  run  the  car  and  the  uni 
verse  wouldn't  move  forward  six  inches  if 
we  didn't  have  one  failure  for  every  suc 
cess. 

So  if  you've  failed  to  set  the  world  on 
fire  up  to  date,  don't  walk  out  on  the  dock 
to  see  what  kind  of  a  jump  it  is.  If  you 
can't  be  a  winner,  you  can  be  a  good  loser 
and  it's  a  toss-up  which  is  the  bigger  thing  I 
A  guy  who  can  beat  the  yellah  streak  we 
all  pack  somewheres,  every  time  he  fails 
to  register  a  win,  and  will  keep  rememberin' 
that  to-morrow  has  got  yesterday  beat 
eighty-seven  ways,  is  no  loser!  On  paper 
he  mightn't  be  a  winner,  but  he  is.  He's 
a  bigger  winner  than  the  bird  that  gets  over, 
because  he's  whipped  the  quit  in  him  with 
out  no  kind  applause  to  cheer  him  on.  I've 
seen  losers  that  attracted  more  attention  in 
runnin'  last  than  any  six  winners  in  the  same 
precinct. 


66  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

Them  kind  of  birds  can't  help  tryin'. 
They  couldn't  quit  if  they  wanted  to,  which 
they  don't!  They  got  somethin'  in  'em  that 
keeps  shovin'  'em  along  whether  they're  re- 
grettin'  the  breaks  or  not.  They're  always 
full  of  the  old  ambish  no  matter  what  the 
score  is  in  the  ninth.  They're  what  you 
might  call  self-starters  in  the  automobile  of 
life — they  don't  need  a  win  now  and  then 
to  crank  'em  up,  they  keep  goin'  forward 
hittin'  on  all  cylinders  from  the  nursery  to 
the  embalmer! 

Alex  was  one  of  them  guys. 

The  Big  Town  fell  for  his  stuff  because 
it  was  neiv,  the  same  as  it  will  fall  for  yours 
to-morrow  if  you  get  somethin'  it  never  seen 
and  the  nerve  to  try  it  out! 

About  a  month  after  Alex  was  workin' 
as  head  salesman  for  the  Gaflooey  Auto 
Company  at  a  pittance  of  ten  thousand  a 
year,  he  come  up  to  the  flat  for  dinner  one 
night.  I  seen  right  away  that  somethin' 
was  wrong,  because  he  only  eat  about  half 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         67 

of  the  roast  duck  and  brung  aloag  his  own 
cigars.  After  nature  could  stand  no  more, 
and  we  had  dragged  ourselves  away  from 
the  table  to  let  the  servant  girl  make  good, 
we  adjourn  to  the  parlor  and  the  wife  gets 
ready  to  punish  the  neighbors  with  the  vic- 
trola. 

"Well,"  says  Alex,  sittin'  down  in  the 
only  rocker,  of  course,  "it  looks  like  they 
have  finally  gimme  somethin'  that  even  / 
can't  do!" 

"Can  that  be  possible?"  I  says,  pickin' 
up  the  sportin'  final. 

"Wait  till  you  hear  this  one!"  remarks 
the  wife,  crankin'  up  the  victrola.  "John 
McCormack  singin'  'If  Beauty  Was  Water, 
You'd  Be  Niagara  Falls!'  It's  a  knock 
out!" 

"Say!"  snorts  Alex,  gettin'  peeved. 
"Can't  a  man  find  no  attention  here?" 

"Look  in  the  telephone  book  under  the 
A's,"  I  says. 

"Never  mind,  dearie!"  the  wife  tells  him. 


68  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"I'll  listen.  What's  on  your  mind?"  She 
goes  over  and  sits  on  the  arm  of  his  chair, 
knowin'  full  well  it  gets  my  goat. 

"I  see  you're  the  only  one  in  this  family 
that's  got  any  sense!"  pipes  Alex,  pattin'  her 
hand. 

"Yefi,"  I  says,  "I  ain't  got  enough  sense 
to  turn  on  a  radiator.  All  I'm  good  for  is 
to  get  the  dollars,  which  of  course  is  nothin' 
at  all  in  keepin'  up  the  home!" 

"Well,  you'll  never  have  Rockefeller  and 
that  crowd  gnashin'  their  teeth  with  all  the 
dollars  you'll  get!"  says  Alex,  "and  that 
ain't  no  lie!" 

"Now,  boys,"  butts  in  the  wife,  "let's  all 
be  friends  even  if  we  do  belong  to  the  same 
family.  What  is  it,  Alex?  Speak  up  like 


a  man." 


"Well,"  he  says,  "the  Gaflooey  people 
has  started  to  make  tourin'  cars  and  road 
sters!  What  d'ye  think  of  that?" 

"I'm  simply  dumfounded!"  I  says. 
"Has  Congress  heard  about  this?" 


She's  going  to   marry   me,   she's  going  to  marry   me! 
See  page  262 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         69 

"There  you  go  again!"  snorts  Alex. 
"Always  tryin'  to  ridicule  everything  I  do. 
It's  simply  a  case  of  sour  grapes  with  you 
—jealousy,  'that's  all !" 

"Sour  grapes  ain't  jealousy,"  I  says. 
"Sour  grapes  is  brandy.  Go  on  with  your 
story,  Alex." 

"Don't  mind  him,"  whispers  the  wife  in 
his  ear.  "He'd  laugh  in  church!" 

"Why  not?"  I  says.  "I  ain't  done  no 
gigglin'  since  you  and  me  first  went  there 
together." 

"Will  you  let  go?"  she  says.  "Go  on, 
Alex." 

"Well,"  he  says,  "they  called  me  into  the 
president's  office  to-day,  and  the  former  be 
gins  by  tellin'  me  I'm  the  best  salesman  they 
ever  had." 

"He  don't  care  what  he  says,  does  he?"  I 
butts  in.  "I  suppose  you  admitted  the 
charge,  eh?" 

"After  that,"  goes  on  Alex,  snubbin'  me, 
"he  tells  me  they  have  decided  to  get  into 


70 

the  pleasure  car  game,  instead  of  just  mak- 
in'  trucks  and  the  like.  Their  first  offerin' 
is  gonna  be  one  of  them  chummy,  clover- 
leaf  roadsters  which  will  hold  five  people 
comfortably." 

"If  they're  well  acquainted!"  I  says. 

"Will  you  leave  the  boy  alone?"  asks  the 
wife.  "I  never  saw  anybody  like  you  in  my 
life!" 

"Don't  I  know  it?"  I  says.  "Otherwise, 
how  would  we  ever  of  got  married?" 

"Now,"  goes  on  Alex,  "they  want  me  to 
go  up  and  see  Runyon  Q.  Sampson,  the 
well-to-do  millionaire,  and  get  him  to  buy 
the  first  car.  You  can  imagine  what  a  ter 
rible  good  advertisement  that  will  be  for 
us  if  he  should  buy  it,  can't  you?" 

"It'll  be  O.  K.  till  he  tries  to  ride  in  it," 
I  says,  "and  then  the  chances  are  you'll 
have  to  leave  town  and  the  Gaflooey  peo 
ple  will  be  facin'  a  suit!" 

"There  ain't  another  car  on  the  market 
that  can  hold  a  match  to  the  Gaflooey!" 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER          71 

hollers  Alex,  his  goat  prancin'  madly  about. 

"What's  it  made  out  of— celluloid?"  I 
says. 

"You  may  think  you're  funny  I"  he  tells 
me,  "but  that's  nothin'  more  or  less  than 
ig'rance.  Here  I  am  wastin'  valuable  time 
tryin'  to  explain  somethin'  to  Cousin  Alice 
and  you  keep  interruptin'  till  a  man  don't 
know  where  he's  at!  Let's  see  now,  where 
was  I?"  he  asks  the  wife. 

"The  beautiful  and  good-lookin'  princess 
had  just  promised  to  wed  you,"  I  says,  "but 
the  crusty  old  king  couldn't  see  into  it!" 

The  wife  throws  a  pillow  at  me  and  it 
busted  a  vase  that  cost  me  three  hundred 
green  certificates.  After  a  short  brawl 
over  the  remains,  I  laid  off  Alex  and  he 
went  ahead. 

"As  I  said  before,"  he  goes  on,  "the  presi 
dent  of  the  Gaflooey  Company  has  selected 
me  to  go  up  and  sell  old  Sampson  this  here 
chummy  roadster.  If  I  land  the  order, 
which  naturally  enough  I  will,  it  means  I 


72  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

get  made  manager  of  the  New  York  sales 
rooms.  Then  me  and  Eve  Rossiter  will 
prob'ly  get  married  and — r 

"What?"  squeals  the  wife.  "Are  you 
and  Eve  engaged?  And  she  never  said  a 
word  to  me!" 

"How  could  she?"  I  says.  "When  he 
prob'ly  had  her  doped?" 

"No,  we  ain't  engaged,"  says  Alex.  "I 
ain't  even  asked  the  girl  will  she  be  mine 
yet." 

"Then  how  do  you  know  she'll  marry 
you?"  asks  the  wife. 

"Well,"  says  Alex,  "I  figure  if  you  mar 
ried  this  here  pest,  I  ought  to  be  able  to 
marry  anybody!  But  what  I'm  up  against 
is  this — I  got  to  take  one  of  them  roadsters 
up  there  to-day  and  demonstrate  it  to  Samp 
son.  They  have  gone  to  work  and  made  an 
appointment  for  me,  and  what  I  don't  know 
about  automobiles  would  fill  seven  large 
libraries.  Here  I'm  supposed  to  show 
Mister  Sampson  the  points  on  our  car  which 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         73 

is  better  than  any  other  and  I  can't  tell  the 
windshield  from  the  magneto.  Now  d'ye 
blame  me  for  bein'  worried?" 

"I  thought  you  was  the  world's  greatest 
salesman,"  I  sneers.  "You  don't  mean  to 
say  this  job  has  got  you  yellin'  for  the  police 
already,  do  you?  What  are  you  gonna  do, 
quit?" 

"Speak  English !"  he  comes  back.  "That 
word  quit  don't  belong  in  our  language. 
Who  said  anything  about  quittin'?  Even 
though  I  don't  know  a  thing  about  auto 
mobiles,  I'm  gonna  sell  Runyon  Q.  Samp 
son  a  Gaflooey  chummy  roadster.  A  fel 
ler  don't  need  knowledge  to  be  a  success  half 
as  much  as  he  needs  confidence  and  I  got 
more  confidence  than  a  feller  shootin'  at 
a  barn  with  a  double-barrelled  shot  gun. 
Anyhow,  I'll  betcha  a  rich  millionaire  like 
Sampson  don't  know  any  too  much  about 
automobiles  himself,  bein'  too  busy  with 
makin'  money  and  the  like,  eh?" 

"I  suppose  you're  gonna  make  him  think 


74  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

that  you  know  more  about  them  gas  buck- 
boards  than  the  guy  which  wrote  'em,  eh?" 
I  says. 

" You'll  never  get  nowhere  1" 'he  answers, 
lookin'  at  me  like  how  can  a  guy  live  and  be 
so  thick  'behind  the  ears.  "You'll  never  be 
nothin'  but  an  average  citizen,  because  you 
never  get  a  .new  idea!  No,  I  ain't  gonna 
make  Sampson  think  /  know  more  about 
automobiles  than  -anybody  in  the  world — 
that's  what  has  queered  many  a  sale.  I'm 
gonna  make  him  think  he  does,  and  that  him 
buyin'  our  roadster  proves  itl" 

"I'll  be-t  you  could  make  Rockefeller 
think  they  wasn't  a  nickel  in  oil!"  says  the 
wife  admirin'ly. 

Alex  gets  up  and  reaches  for  his  hat. 

"If  they  was  enough  money  in  it  for  me, 
I'd  try  it,"  he  says,  "and  that  ain't  no  lie!" 

I  didn't  see  Alex  till  the  next  mornin'  and 
then  he  blows  in  the  flat. 

"Hello!"  he  says.  "Here  you  are  as 
usual,  loafin'  away  the  hull  mornin'.  It's 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         75 

almost    eight    o'clock,    d'ye    know    that?" 

"Sure!"  I  says.  "You  can't  get  me  on 
that  one.  The  answer  is  seven  fifty-five!" 

"What  d'ye  mean,  seven  fifty-five?"  he 
asks. 

"Ain't  seven  fifty-five  almost  eight 
o'clock,"  I  says,  "and  didn't  you  ask  me  if 
I  knew  it?" 

"Ain't  he  clever?"  says  the  wife,  pattin' 
me  on  the  back. 

Alex  looks  at  me  in  open  disgust. 

"If  that's  bein'  clever,"  he  says,  "I'm  a 
professor  from  Harvard!  Where  d'ye  get 
that  stuff?" 

"It's  a  gift!"  I  says.  "What  are  you  do- 
in'  here  this  hour  of  the  day?" 

"Hurry  up  and  git  through  eatin',"  he 
says,  "I  want  you  to  take  a  ride  with  me." 

"What  have  you  been  pinched  for?"  I 
says. 

"Will  you  leave  him  be?"  butts  in  the 
wife.  "Don't  mind  him,  Alex,  he'll  go 
with  you.  Where  are  you  going?" 


76  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Up  to  Runyon  Q.  Sampson's  to  sell  him 
a  Gaflooey  roadster,"  says  Alex.  "I  got  the 
car  right  outside  now.  Just  wait  till  you 
git  a  look  at  it,  you'll  be  crazy  to  buy  one 
yourself  I" 

"You  said  it!"  I  tells  him,  puttin'  on  my 
coat.  "I  certainly  would  be  crazy  if  I 
bought  one  of  them!  Who's  gonna  drive 
this  up  there?" 

"I  got  a  mechanic  from  the  shop,"  says 
Alex.  "A  feller  which  knows  so  much 
about  automobiles  that  he  could  take  a  pair 
of  pliers  and  a  lug  wrench  and  go  clear  to 
Frisco  with  nothin'  else!" 

"Not  even  a  car,  eh?"  I  says.  "Some 
mechanic!" 

"Be  still!"  says  the  wife.  "Well,  Alex, 
I  certainly  hope  you  have  all  kinds  of  luck. 
Let  me  know  how  you  make  out,  will  you?" 

"Sure!"  I  tells  her.  "Call  up  police 
headquarters  in  about  an  hour  and  you'll 
prob'ly  be  able  to  get  all  the  details,  right 
off  the  blotter." 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         77 

We  go  outside  and  there's  the  Gaflooey 
chummy  roadster  leanin'  right  up  against 
the  curb.  It  looked  like  it  might  be  a  reg 
ular  automobile  when  it  grew  up,  but  just 
then  it  seemed  like  it  had  been  snatched 
from  the  cradle  before  its  features  was 
fully  formed.  Two  of  them  roadsters 
would  of  made  a  nice  pair  of  roller  skates 
and  the  expense  for  tires  must  of  been  prac 
tically  nothin',  because  the  ones  that  was 
on  it  looked  like  a  set  of  washers.  The 
body  was  painted  yellah  and  the  trimmin's 
was  in  Alice  blue  and  catsup  red. 

In  the  front  seat  is  this  guy  which  Alex 
claimed  was  the  world's  greatest  mechanic. 
You  could  see  that  at  a  glance  anyhow,  be 
cause  he  was  dressed  in  a  pair  of  overalls 
that  had  lasted  him  ever  since  he  first  broke 
into  the  automobile  game  and  he  carried 
about  three  quarts  of  medium  oil  on  his  face 
and  hands. 

"Well,"  says  Alex,  throwin'  out  his  chest, 
"what  d'ye  think  old  Runyon  Q.  Sampson 


78  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

will  say  when  he  casts  his  eye  over  that, 
eh?" 

"You'd  only  get  sore  if  I  told  you,"  I 
says,  "but  I'll  say  this  much,  Alex.  If  you 
can  sell  him  that  mechanical  toy  there  on 
the  pretense  that  it's  an  automobile,  I'm  go- 
in'  up  to-morrow  and  sell  him  Grant's 
Tomb  for  a  paperweight!" 

"Git  in,"  pipes  Alex,  "and  stop  knock- 


in'!" 


"I  won't  have  to  knock  after  we  get 
started — that's  if  we  do,"  I  tells  him,  forcin' 
myself  into  the  rear,  "the  motor  will  look 
after  that!" 

Alex  nudges  the  mechanic. 

"This  here's  my  cousin,"  he  tells  him. 
"He  ain't  a  bad  feller  in  spite  of  that." 

He  turns  around  to  me,  "Joe,"  he  says, 
"I  want  you  to  meet  Mister  Eddie  Worth, 
the  best  man  on  gas  engines  that  ever  burnt 
his  hands  on  an  exhaust  pipe!" 

"Greetin's,  Eddie!"  I  says,  shakin'  hands 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         79 

with  him  and  gettin'  a  half  pound  of  grease 
for  nothin'. 

"Gimme  a  cigarette!"  answers  Eddie.  "I 
been  waitin'  here  an  hour  for  youse  guys. 
The  motor  is  prob'iy  all  cold  now  and  the 
starter  may  gimme  an  argument." 

He  gets  out  and  monkeys  around  the  front 
of  the  car. 

"Ain't  it  nice  and  roomy  back  there?" 
Alex  asks  me. 

I  moved  my  knees  away  from  my  chin 
so's  I  could  talk. 

"Great!"  I  says.  "Only  the  Gaflooey 
people  is  liable  to  get  in  trouble  on  account 
of  them  coppin'  the  design  from  somebody 
else." 

"What  d'ye  mean?"  he  asks  me,  lookin' 
puzzled. 

"Well,"  I  tells  him,  "you  gotta  admit  that 
the  seatin'  arrangements  back  here  is  a  dead 
steal  from  a  can  of  sardines!" 

"Did  you  ever  see  anything  you  couldn't 
find  fault  with?"  he  sneers. 


8o  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Yeh,"  I  says.  "I  once  got  three  nickels 
in  change  for  a  dime." 

At  this  critical  moment,  the  mechanic 
gets  down  on  his  hands  and  knees  in  the 
street  and  begins  to  worry  the  car  like  a 
dog  with  a  bone.  Then  all  of  a  sudden  he 
crawls  underneath  it  and  disappears  from 
the  public  eye.  A  lot  of  shippin'  clerks, 
bookkeepers,  salesgirls,  brokers,  lawyers 
and  the  like,  on  their  way  downtown  to 
their  jobs,  figures  that  you  can  go  to  work 
any  day,  but  an  auto  bein'  fixed  calls  for 
immediate  attention  and  gets  around  us  in 
a  circle.  This  seemed  to  get  Alex's  goat, 
but  it  was  huckleberry  pie  to  the  mechanic. 
He  crawls  out  from  under,  rolls  up  his 
sleeves,  ruffles  his  hair,  looks  over  the  crowd 
and  rubs  his  hands  together. 

"Gimme  a  cigarette!"  he  says.  "And 
reach  down  in  that  tool  box  there  and  hand 
me  up  them  pliers,  a  couple  of  S  wrenches, 
the  hammer  and  a  screwdriver!" 

The  crowd  sighs  with  delight,  but  Alex 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         81 

leaps  off  the  seat  like  they  was  bees  in  the 
upholstery. 

"What  d'ye  want  all  them  there  tools 
for?"  he  yells.  "Stop  this  monkey  busi 
ness,  I'm  an  hour  late  now!  What's  the 
matter  with  the  car?" 

The  mechanic  looks  around  at  the  crowd 
and  shakes  his  head  pityin'ly.  They  give 
Alex  the  laugh,  and  a  manicure  tells  her 
friend  that  if  she  was  the  mechanic  she 
wouldn't  bother  with  it,  but  would  make 
Alex  fix  it  himself  for  gettin'  so  bold. 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  car?"  re 
peats  th  nechanic,  waggin'  his  head  from 
side  to  side  with  a  sarcastic  movement. 
"It's  been  abused,  that's  all!  I  ain't  had 
time  to  go  over  it  carefully ;  it'll  have  to  be 
towed  down  to  the  shop  where  we  can  git 
it  up  on  jacks  and  take  it  apart.  I  found 
a  leak  in  the  radiator,  the  bolts  is  missin' 
from  the  muffler,  there's  a  crack  in  the  rear 
housin'  and  the  clutch  seems  to  grind  a 
bit." 


82  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

Alex  grits  his  teeth  and  grabs  hold  of  the 
windshield. 

"Is  that  all?"  he  hisses. 

"Well,  not  all,  no!"  says  the  mechanic, 
scratchin'  his  chin.  "They  must  be  a 
couple  of  pins  sheered  off  of  the  differential 
and  the—" 

"They  ain't  no  sich  a  thing!"  roars  Alex. 
"This  here's  a  brand  new  car,  right  from 
our  factory — you  wooden-headed  fule! 
It  ain't  been  run  a  mile  and  they  ain't  a 
thing  the  matter  with  it,  not  even  a  scratch 
on  the  paint!  You  was  sent  up  here  to 
drive  this  car,  not  to  wreck  it.  You— 

"Hey,  don't  git  to  callin'  me  no  wooden- 
headed  fool!"  hollers  the  mechanic,  jumpin' 
around  and  wavin'  the  pliers.  "That's 
against  the  union  rules,  and  you'll  get  the 
worst  of  it  if  I  bring  it  before  the  board. 
They  must  be  some  mistake  here.  I 
thought  you  wanted  me  to  look  over  this 
boat  for  your  friend  here  and  see  what  it 
needed.  How'd  I  know  you  only  wanted 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER          83 

me  to  drive?  I  ain't  no  mind-reader,  I'm 
a  mechanic  and — -" 

"Shut  up!"  says  Alex;  "and  drive  us  out 
to  Tarrytown.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
car's  all  right,  ain't  it?" 

"Certainly!"  says  the  mechanic.  "Ain't 
it  a  new  one?  Gimme  a  cigarette  and  I'll 
see  if  I  can  get  this  tin  can  here  to  roll." 

It's  just  about  eighteen  miles  as  the 
pigeon  soars  from  where  we  started  to  Run- 
yon  Q.  Sampson's  country  home  at  Tarry- 
town,  and  we  fled  up  there  in  two  hours. 
This  car  was  a  wonder  on  hills,  that  is  it's 
a  wonder  we  got  up  'em  at  all.  We 
climbed  most  of  'em  with  the  emergency 
brake  on  so's  we  wouldn't  slip  back  to  the 
garage,  and  I  figured  that  the  car  must  of 
been  painted  yellah  in  honor  of  the  motor, 
which  quit  like  a  dog  every  time  the  goin' 
got  rough.  The  mechanic  drives  us  in 
through  the  entrance  of  Sampson's  domi 
cile,  as  we  remark  at  the  garage,  and  then 
stops  for  encouragement  before  goin' 


84  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

further.  Alex  elects  me  to  go  up  and  no 
tify  Sampson  that  we're  all  set  to  show  him 
the  Gaflooey  chummy  roadster,  while  he 
and  the  mechanic  stays  behind  to  look  over 
the  car  and  see  that  everything  is  workin' 
fairly  perfect.  I  got  as  far  as  the  porch 
and  a  guy  in  a  drum-major's  uneyform  with 
out  the  hat  nails  me.  He  was  as  big  as 
the  Woolworth  Buildin'  and  just  as  emo 
tional.  He  looked  like  what  them  stage 
butlers  tries  to. 

"What  would  you  wish  ?"  he  asks,  friendly 
as  a  traffic  cop  to  a  taxi-driver. 

"Well,  if  I  thought  they  was  any  use,"  I 
says,  "I'd  wish  I  had  a  million  bucks,  but 
as  it  is,  I'd  like  to  see  Runyon  Q.  Sampson, 
your  master." 

"Step  this  way!"  he  says,  startin'  to  walk 
ahead. 

"I  can't  step  that  way!"  I  says,  watchin' 
him  close.  "It  must  be  a  gift.  I'll  have 
to  folley  you  in  my  own  way  on  account  of 
havin'  a  blowout  in  my  rubber  heels  an— 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         85 

Just  then  a  little  bald-headed  guy  with 
one  of  them  short  gray  mustaches  which 
the  wealthy  banker  wears  in  the  movies, 
crosses  our  path  and  the  big  feller  stops  and 
salutes  him. 

"Gentleman  to  see  you,  sir,"  he  says. 

"Hmph!"  grunts  Runyon  Q.  Sampson, 
which  is  who  the  little  guy  was,  as  the  gentle 
readers  has  prob'ly  guessed.  "I  can't  see 
any  one  now.  I  have  an  appointment  this 
afternoon  to— 

"I  guess  I'm  that  appointment,"  I  butts 
in,  uor  part  of  it,  anyways.  Was  you  ex- 
pectin'  to  look  over  a  Gaflooey  chummy 
roadster?" 

"Well,  what  of  it?"  he  snaps. 

"My  lord,  the  carriage  awaits!"  I  says, 
makin'  a  bow.  "Folley  me  and  you'll  go 
motorin'!" 

"Are  you  the  agent?"  he  asks,  as  we  walk 
back  over  the  lawn. 

"No,"  I  says,  "I'm  his  cousin.  He's  car- 
ryin'  me  along  for  luck  or  somethin'.  We 


86  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

also  have  a  mechanic  with  us  in  case  of  fire. 
Are  you  fond  of  automobilin'?" 

"Much  more  so  than  of  conversation!" 
he  barks. 

"That  stops  me!"  I  s-ays.  "I'm  dumb 
from  now  on.  What  is  it  who's  this  says? 
Silence  is  golden,  speech  is  human — ain't 
it?" 

We  have  reached  the  car  by  this  time,  and 
Alex  steps  forward. 

"Good  morning,  Mister  Sampson!"  he 
says.  "I  want  to  thank  you  for  the  com 
pany  and  myself,  for  volunteering  your 
judgment  as  to  whether  our  new  model 
chummy  roadster  is  a  good  car  or  not." 

Sampson  walks  around  it  a  couple  of 
times,  opens  the  hood,  looks  at  the  motor 
and  sniffs. 

"It's  entirely  too  small!"  he  announces. 
"The  body  is  grotesque,  the  paint  is  a  hor 
rible  color  and  the  chassis  seems  out  of 
alignment." 

"Exactly  what  I  thought  you  would  say!" 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER          87 

agrees  Alex,  noddin'  his  head  like  Sampson 
had  raved  over  the  car.  "We  will  make 
any  changes  you  suggest.  After  all,  you'll 
be  the  one  to  use  it  and  that  makes  you  the 
one  to  be  pleased.  We  have  custom  made 
suits,  shoes  and  shirts — why  not  custom 
made  automobiles?" 

"Hmph!"  grunts  Sampson. 

"I'll  fall,"  I  says,  hopin'  to  break  the  em- 
barrassin'  silence.  "Why  not?" 

"Shut  up !"  hisses  Alex.  "Would  you  al 
low  us  to  give  you  a  little  spin?"  he  asks. 

"Ha,  ha!"  pipes  the  mechanic  all  of  a 
sudden.  "That's  a  hot  one,  ain't  it?"  he 
grins  at  Sampson.  "Sure,  old  top,  we'll 
give  you  a  spin!"  he  says,  jabbin'  the  floor 
board  with  his  feet.  "That's  if  this  boiler 
will  roll.  Some  of  you  guys  will  have  to 
give  the  motor  a  little  spin,  if  you  want 
to  go  away  from  here.  She's  gone  cold  on 
me  again!  Gimme  a  cigarette,  will  you?" 

Alex  presented  him  with  a  glance  that 
would  of  froze  boilin'  oil. 


88  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Step  right  in,  Mister  Sampson,"  he  says. 
"We'll  run  around  the  roads  here  and— 

"We'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort!"  snaps 
Sampson.  "I've  got  to  be  at  my  office  by 
three  o'clock  and  you  can  drive  me  down 
there.  In  that  way  I'll  be  wasting  no  time 
and  I  can  see  what  your  car  can  do  through 
traffic  as  well  as  on  the  road." 

"Elegant!"  says  Alex.     "Step  right  in." 

Runyon  Q.  Sampson  steps  right  in  and 
after  gettin'  a  cigarette  from  me,  the 
mechanic  steps  on  the  gas.  We  run  every 
bit  of  a  hundred  yards  across  the  lawn  and 
then  all  of  a  sudden  the  Gaflooey  roadster 
stops  deader  than  Columbus.  The  me 
chanic  tried  everything  from  blowin'  the 
horn  to  crawlin'  underneath  it  again,  but 
they  was  nothin'  stirrin'. 

"Well,"  he  says  to  Alex,  finally,  "there's 
only  one  way  we  can  get  away  from  here 
now!" 

"What's  that?"  asks  Alex,  bendin'  down 
so's  Runyon  Q.  Sampson  won't  hear  it. 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER          89 

"By  freight!"  says  the  mechanic.  "It 
seems  to  me  that  one  of  them  rear  axles  has 
gone  to  work  and  busted  on  us." 

"Listen  to  me,"  says  Alex.  "Get  us  away 
from  here  right  away  and  there's  ten  dol 
lars  extry  in  it  for  you!" 

"Now  you're  talkin'  sense!"  says  the 
mechanic.  "Gimme  a  cigarette." 

He  grabs  up  the  tool  box  and  hides  him 
self  under  the  car  again,  while  Runyon  Q. 
Sampson  begins  to  fidget  around  and  look 
at  his  watch  like  it  was  the  first  one  he  ever 
seen. 

Twenty  minutes  passed,  folleyed  by  thirty 
more,  and  still  this  mechanic  is  under 
the  car,  makin'  sounds  like  he  was  fillin' 
a  rush  order  for  tin  pans.  Alex  is  as 
nervous  as  a  cop  makin'  his  first  pinch  and 
our  friend  Sampson  begins  sayin'  things 
about  the  Gaflooey  roadster  that  would 
never  of  been  used  by  the  builders  as  testi 
monials.  Finally,  Alex  whispers  to  me 
will  I  get  underneath  and  see  what  the 


9o  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

world's  champion  auto  mechanic  is  doin' 
to  while  away  the  time. 

I  got  out  and  looked  under  and — Oh, 
boy! 

This  bird  is  layin'  on  the  ground  under 
the  car,  readin'  a  dope  book  on  the  races! 
He's  got  the  book  in  one  hand  and  a  ham 
mer  in  the  other  and  every  now  and  then  he 
reaches  back  and  wallops  the  dirt  pan, 
without  lookin',  so's  it'll  sound  like  he's 
fixin'  things  up. 

"What  seems  to  be  the  trouble?"  I  asks 
him. 

"I  think  Dimpled  Dan  is  like  money 
from  home  in  the  first  race  to-day,"  he  says, 
"provided  they — what — what  are  you  doin' 
here?"  he  winds  up,  droppin'  the  book. 

"Git  outa  there!"  I  hollers.  "If  you're  a 
mechanic,  I'm  Christopher  Columbus!" 

"What  d'ye  expect  for  seventy  cents  an 
hour — Edison?"  he  growls. 

Runyon  Q.  Sampson  has  took  it  all  in  and 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER          91 

now  he  lets  out  a  beller  and  leaps  from  the 
car. 

"You  infernal  idiot!"  he  bawls  at  poor 
Alex.  "You've  made  me  miss  my  appoint 
ment.  What  do  you  mean  by  taking  up  my 
time  with  this  travesty  on  an  automobile? 
Why,  the  thing  can't  even  move!  If  this 
is  the  way  it  performs  when  it's  fresh  from 
your  factory,  what  can  a  man  expect  when 
it's  a  few  weeks  old?" 

"Maybe  it  ain't  ripe  enough  yet,"  I  butts 
in,  hopin'  to  save  the  situation.  "It  does 
look  kinda  young,  don't  it?" 

"Silence!"  roars  Runyon  Q.  "I  wouldn't 
buy  one  of  your  cars  if  they  were  selling 
at  three  cents  a  carload!  That's  final! 
Don't  you  dare  come  up  and  bother  me 
again.  Get  this  pile  of  junk  off  my  place 
here  just  as  fast  as  you  can,  or,  by  the  eter 
nal,  I'll  have  you  all  arrested  for  trespass 
ing!" 

With  them  few  remarks  he  stamps  off 
across  the  lawn,  bellerin'  like  a  bull. 


92  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Well,  Alex,"  I  says,  "at  last  you  have  hit 
somethin'  in  little  old  New  York  that  you 
can't  do,  eh?" 

"That  old  boob  gimme  a  pain  anyways!" 
remarks  the  mechanic.  "What  does  he 
know  about  machinery?  Gimme  a  ciga 
rette  !" 

Alex  sits  down  on  the  runnin'  board  of 
the  Gaflooey  chummy  roadster  and  lights 
a  cigar.  He  puffs  away,  lookin'  off  in  the 
air  kinda  sad  and  mournful,  like  he  had 
just  been  handed  a  wire  readin',  "Father 
has  told  all.  We  are  lost. — Agnes,"  or 
somethin'  to  that  effect.  Even  though  he 
was  a  relative  of  the  wife's  and  had  spent 
every  minute  since  he  hit  New  York  con- 
fessin'  to  bein'  a  world  beater,  I  felt  sorry 
for  him!  Runyon  Q.  Sampson  was  off  the 
Gaflooey  people  for  life,  and  Alex  had  fell 
down  on  the  biggest  thing  he'd  tried  yet. 
I  knew  how  he  must  of  felt  about  it,  so  I 
went  over  and  slapped  him  on  the  back. 

"Cheer  up,  Alex,"  I  says.     "I  know  that 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         93 

was  a  tough  one  to  lose,  but  a  guy  can't  fin 
ish  in  front  all  the  time!  You  know  you 
ain't  up  in  dear  old  Vermont  now  and  this 
town's  much  harder  to  beat  than  the  aver 
age.  I  told  you  that  when  you  first  come 
here.  I  knowed  it  was  only  a  question  of 
time  before  you'd  hit  the  bumps — every 
body  does  sooner  or  later  in  New  York — 
and  then  you — " 

Alex  gets  up  and  throws  away  the  cigar. 

"All  I  hope,"  he  says.  "All  I  hope  is 
that  the  one  they  deliver  to  him  works  all 
right!" 

"Deliver  to  who?"  I  says. 

"Runyon  Q.  Sampson!"  he  comes  back. 
"I  come  up  here  to  sell  that  feller  a  Ga- 
flooey  chummy  roadster  and  that's  what 
I'm  a  goin'  to  dew!  I'll  have  his  check 
before  the  end  of  the  week.  I  don't  know 
how  I'm  gonna  do  it  now,  but  in  some  way 
this  here  sale  is  gonna  occur,  you  can  gamble 
on  that!  D'ye  think  a  little  thing  like  this 
can  discourage  me?  Why  if  the  car  had 


94  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

exploded  and  blowed  us  all  up  in  the  air 
while  we  was  sittin'  in  it,  I  would  of  sold 
Sampson  the  speedometer  for  a  watch  be 
fore  we  had  hit  the  ground  again!"  He 
turns  around  on  the  mechanic  and  rolls  up 
his  sleeves.  "The  faster  you  git  away  from 
here,  the  longer  you'll  live!"  he  snarls. 
"What  art  was  you  follerin'  before  you  took 
up  automobiles?" 

"Well,  to  be  on  the  level  with  you,"  says 
the  mechanic,  "I  was  second  man  in  a 
cigar  store  on  Twenty-third  Street.  I  got 
fired  because  me  and  the  cash  register  could 
never  agree  on  the  day's  receipts.  I  seen 
an  ad  for  a  mechanic  at  the  Gaflooey  service 
station  and  I  got  took  on  there  as  a  helper. 
A  feller  has  got  to  do  something  don't  he? 
Gimme  a  cigarette." 

Alex  makes  a  dash  for  him,  but  I  hold 
him  back. 

"Fade!"  I  warns  him.  "You're  gettin' 
away  with  murder  as  it  is,  and  if  I  let  this 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         95 

bird  go  they's  no  tellin'  what'll  happen  to 
you!" 

"What  do  I  get  for  my  mornin's  work, 
heh?"  he  hollers. 

"You're  gettin'  immunity!"  I  says. 
"Beat  it!" 

"All  right!"  he  snarls.  "I  oughta 
knowed  I'd  only  get  the  worst  of  it  goin'  out 
on  a  job  with  a  coupla  boobs  like  you  guys. 
This  feller  claims  he's  a  salesman,  hey? 
Well,  I'll  lay  the  world  eight  to  five  he 
couldn't  sell  ice  cream  sodas  in  Hades! 
Gimme  a  ciga— 

Alex  throws  the  tool  box  at  him,  and  he 
blows. 

While  we're  standin'  there  tryin'  to 
figure  out  some  way  to  get  this  chummy 
roadster  to  make  good,  a  guy  steps  out  from 
behind  a  hedge  and  joins  our  little  party. 
He  had  just  about  passed  the  votin'  age 
and  he  wore  a  raincoat  with  one  of  them 
cute  little  belts  around  it,  a  dare-devil  soft 


96  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

hat  and  carried  a  suitcase.  His  feet 
dragged  like  they  wasn't  used  to  such  heavy 
exercise  as  walkin'  and  he  steps  in  front  of 
us  with  a  cigarette  droopin'  outa  the  corner 
of  his  mouth. 

"Pardon  me,"  he  yawns.  "Are  you  hav 
ing  some  difficulty  with  the  car?" 

"Oh,  fluently!"  I  says.  "You  must  be  a 
fortune  teller.  Some  difficulty  is  right! 
We  been  attemptin'  to  get  away  from  here 
all  mornin'  and  it's  the  same  as  makin'  the 
Russians  think  the  Czar  was  a  good  feller— 
there's  nothin'  doin'.  I  don't  think  the  mo 
tor  is  tryin'  and— 

He  sets  down  the  suitcase  and  yawns  some 
more. 

"I  know  something  about  autos,"  he  says. 
"Have  a  couple  of  my  own  and  occasionally 
I  have  to  fuss  around  'em  a  bit.  Do  you 
mind  if  I  look  at  the  motor?" 

"We'd  just  love  it!"  I  says.     "Go  to  it." 

He  opens  the  hood,  yawns  a  coupla  times 
and  monkeys  around  for  a  minute. 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         97 

"Try  her  now,"  he  says. 

Alex  gets  in  and  pushes  a  button  with  his 
foot. 

I  don't  know  what  this  handsome  stranger 
did,  but  whatever  else  it  was,  it  was  a  suc 
cess,  because  the  motor  immediately  begins 
to  tear  holes  in  the  peace  and  quiet  of  the 
surroundin'  country. 

"She'll  be  all  right  as  soon  as  she  warms 
up  now,"  says  our  savior.  "The  gas  was 
disconnected — coupling  jolted  off  evidently 
—and  one  of  the  cylinders  was  missing. 
Must  have  given  you  trouble  on  hills, 
what?"  he  yawns  some  more.  "Nice  little 
bus,"  he  says,  "and,  now,  I  wonder  if  you'd 
do  a  favor  for  me?" 

"I  only  got  four  bucks  on  me,"  I  says, 
"but  you're  welcome  to  that  if  you  can  use 
it." 

He  grins. 

"It  isn't  money,"  he  says.  "It's  some 
thing  more  important  than  that." 


98  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Fudge!"  says  Alex.  "There  ain't  no 
sich  thing  in  this  town!" 

"Yes  there  is!"  says  the  newcomer,  step- 
pin'  back  to  a  hedge,  "and  here  it  is!" 

With  that,  out  steps  the  Venus  de  Milo 
wearin'  both  arms  and  a  set  of  scenery  that 
must  of  enabled  some  Fifth  Avenue  store 
to  move  over  to  Easy  Street.  She  looked 
like  what  the  press  agents  claim  is  in  the 
chorus  of  every  musical  comedy  that  hits 
Broadway  and  she's  wearin'  enough  dia 
monds  to  have  keep  the  Alleys  in  tooth 
powder.  After  I  had  got  over  bein'  daz 
zled  by  the  first  look,  I  give  her  the  East 
and  West  again  and  recognize  her.  She's 
nothin'  less  than  Margot  Meringue,  the  big 
movie  star. 

"I'm  Arnold  Sampson,"  says  the  young 
feller,  "and  this  is  Mrs.  Arnold  Sampson. 
My  wife  was  formerly— 

"I  know,"  I  butts  in,  "I  seen  her  the  week 
before  last  with  the  missus  in  Marvelous 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER         99 

Margot's  Mistake.  She  was  vampirin' 
around  and— 

"How  did  you  like  me?"  smiles  Margot. 

"Well,"  I  says,  "we  seen  the  pitcher 
three  times  runnin' — is  that  good  enough?" 

"We  have  just  been  married,"  goes  on 
Arnold,  throwin'  out  what  chest  he  had 
with  him. 

"Congratulations!"  pipes  Alex,  shakin' 
his  hand. 

"Pretty  soft!"  I  says,  doin'  the  same. 

"I  saw  you  and  father  in  the  car  here," 
explains  Arnold,  "and  as  you  appear  to  be 
friends  of  his,  I  wonder  if  you'd  come  up  to 
the  house  with  us?  Father  is  less  liable  to 
make  a  scene,  if  there  is  some  one  else  pres 
ent.  You  see,  he  doesn't  know  that  we're 
married  as  yet." 

Alex  suddenly  looks  interested  and 
nudges  me  to  keep  quiet. 

"I  can  see  the  whole  thing  in  a  nutshell," 
he  says.  "Your  father  objects  to  you — oh 
—now — marryin'  an  actress,  heh?" 


ioo  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"No,"  yawns  Arnold.  "In  this  case  the 
traditional  is  reversed.  My  father  objects 
to  the  actress  marrying  me!"  he  bows  to 
Margot.  "He  is  personally  quite  fond  of 
my  wife  and  his  objection  is  based  solely 
upon  his  own  unflattering  opinion  of  me. 
He  declares  I'll  never  be  able  to  support 
Mrs.  Sampson  in  the  manner  she  is  accus 
tomed  to  living,  as  her  income  is  something 
like  fifty  thousand  a  year.  Father  allows 
me  a  bare  five  thousand  and  he  refuses  to 
increase  it  until  I  go  to  work  in  his  office, 
or  something  equally  as  silly.  Can  you 
imagine  anything  more  idiotic  than  that? 
Dad  is  worth  millions  and  he  expects  me  to 
work!" 

"What  an  inhuman  parent!"  says  Alex. 
"What  have  you  got  against  work?" 

"My  dear  fellow,"  says  Arnold,  "I  don't 
really  know.  I  don't  seem  able  to  get  en 
thusiastic  about  it — that's  all.  I  wouldn't 
mind  going  down  to  Dad's  office  and  toy 
ing  with  an  adding  machine  or  driving 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER        101 

nails  in  packing  cases,  but  I'm  sure  I'd  fall 
asleep  on  the  job,  or  something  idiotic  like 
that!  You  might  say  I  lack  the  urge,"  he 
yawns  and  grins.  "  I  guess  I  wasn't  built 
to  hustle.  I  haven't  got  the  pep,  as  we  used 
to  say  at— 

"Listen!"  butts  in  Alex,  his  eyes  begin- 
nin'  to  glitter.  "You  was  built  the  same  as 
anybody  else,  only  thinner.  I  know  what's 
the  matter  with  you — c'mere,  I'll  show 
you!"  He  takes  Arnold  by  the  arm  and 
leads  him  over  to  the  Gaflooey  chummy 
roadster.  "D'ye  see  that  automobile  there?" 
he  says.  "Look  at  it.  What  is  it — nothin' 
but  a  pile  of  metal  and  wood!  It  can't 
talk,  it  can't  think — but  it's  got  a  little  but 
ton  down  there  in  the  dash  and  when  you 
push  it,  that  car  will  keep  on  runnin'  till 
the  gasoline  gives  out  or  it  hits  a  tree! 
That  button's  called  a  self-commencer  and 
that's  what  you  need!  Ain't  there  no  but 
tons  up  in  your  head  that  you  can  push  and 
get  yourself  goin'?  Is  that  pile  of  metal 


ALEX  THE  GREAT 

better  than  >ou?  You  can  go  down  now 
and  take  a  job  where  you  won't  get  your 
hands  dirty,  but  if  your  Dad  hadn't  been  a 
self-starter  fifty  years  ago,  you'd  be  callin' 
a  Wop  foreman  'Boss'  to-day  and  likin'  it!" 

Arnold  stops  yawnin'  and  looks  inter 
ested,  where  he  don't  look  mad.  Margot 
nods  her  head  and  puts  her  hand  on  his 
arm. 

"Arnold  dear,"  she  says,  "he's  right! 
It's  time  you  did  try  to  do  something,  espe 
cially  now.  I  don't  want  to  lecture  you, 
dear,  but— 

"I  don't  know  whether  he's  right  or  not," 
says  Arnold,  "but  I  do  know  that  ex 
traordinary  speech  of  his  has  me  thinking. 
Also,  it  sounded  great  to  me  and  there's  no 
reason  why  it  shouldn't  sound  just  as  great 
to  Dad!  He  loves  that  sort  of  thing  and 
I'm  going  up  and  repeat  it,  word  for  word! 
I'm  going  to  tell  him  we're  married  and  that 
I'll  start  to  work  for  him  whenever  he  likes. 
I  can  try  it,  anyhow!" 


She's  knittin'  a  sweater  for  me  that  will   prob'ly   make  me  oft' 
her  for  life.      See  page  275 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER        103 

Margot  looks  at  Alex  like  she  would  kiss 
him  if  it  wasn't  for  the  looks  of  the  thing, 
and  Alex  whispers  in  my  ear  that  the  Ga- 
flooey  roadster  is  as  good  as  sold.  We  all 
got  in  it — it  was  runnin'  like  a  watch  now 
—and  roll  up  to  the  house.  The  newly- 
weds  goes  inside,  while  me  and  Alex  stays 
out  on  the  porch,  and  in  about  half  an  hour 
they  come  out  again,  bringin'  old  Runyon 
Q.  Sampson  with  'em.  The  old  gent  walks 
over  to  Alex  and  holds  out  his  hand. 

"My  boy,"  he  says,  "I  want  to  thank  you 
for  what  you've  done  to  this  cub  of  mine. 
I  don't  know  what  you  told  him,  but  he's 
a  different  person  from  the  time  I  saw  him 
last.  He  sounds  like  a  real  man,  now! 
I'm  going  to  do  something  for  you  in  re 
turn.  I  won't  buy  one  of  these  infernal 
cars  of  yours,  wouldn't  have  it  for  a  gift! 
But,  if  you'll  tell  me  what  your  commission 
on  the  sale  would  have  amounted  to,  I'll 
write  you  a  check  for  that  figure." 


104  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

Margot  looks  at  Alex,  and  then  she  looks 
at  the  car. 

"Why,  I  think  it's  a  perfect  dear!"  she 
says,  "and  those  colors  real  harmony  it 
self!" 

Alex  bounces  forward,  his  eyes  glitterin' 
again. 

"We  were  thinkin'  of  callin'  this  model 
the  Margot  Meringue,"  he  says,  "and— 

"Come,  come!"  interrupts  old  Runyon 
Q.,  "let's  straighten  this  matter  up."  He 
takes  out  his  check  book  and  fountain  pen. 
"I  want  to  take  you  children  down  to  Tif 
fany's  and  have  Margot  pick  out  a  suitable 
wedding  gift.  We  have— 

"May  I  have  anything  I  want?"  asks 
Margot,  kinda  innocent. 

"Of  course  you  can!"  beams  the  old  boy, 
pinchin'  her  cheek. 

"Then  buy  me  a  Gaflooey  chummy  road 
ster!"  she  says.  "I  think  this  one  is  a  per 
fect  love  of  a  car!" 

Oh,  boy! 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER        105 

Alex  tries  to  look  unconcerned,  but  he 
couldn't  help  droppin'  his  hat.  The  old 
man  coughs  and  gets  red  in  the  face,  but  he 
was  game. 

"All  right!"  he  snorts  at  Alex.  "You 
win.  You  can  say  you're  the  only  man  that 
ever  got  the  best  of  Runyon  Q.  Sampson  I 
What's  the  amount?" 

I  went  into  the  office  of  the  Gaflooey 
Company  with  Alex  when  he  went  back 
and  the  president  is  waitin'  for  him  with 
blood  in  his  eye. 

"You  needn't  begin  your  excuses!"  he 
says  to  Alex.  "The  mechanic  has  told  me 
how  you  made  a  mess  of  everything  and 
Sampson  refused  to  buy  the  car.  I  didn't 
think  they  made  any  ten-thousand-a-year- 
men  up  in  Vermont  when  I  hired  you,  but 
I  took  a  chance.  New  York's  too  big  for 
you  fellows ;  I  guess  you  were  only  a  flash  in 
the  pan!  Just  think  what  it  would  have 
meant  had  you  sold  the  car  to  old  Sampson! 
Why,  the  advertising  alone  would — " 


io6  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"I  guess  you're  right  about  me  bein'  a 
flash  in  the  pan,"  butts  in  Alex,  "but  I  found 
another  pan!  I  don't  know  whether  this 
is  any  good  for  advertisin'  or  not,  but  I  sold 
that  chummy  roadster  to  Sampson  and  he 
has  give  it  to  his  daughter-in-law  for  a  wed- 
din'  gift." 

The  president  jumps  from  his  chair,  very 
light  for  a  man  of  his  heft. 

"Great!"  he  hollers,  "great!"  He  looks 
at  Sampson's  check  which  Alex  hands  over. 
"I  knew  you'd  do  it!  I  saw  you  had  the 
stuff  in  you  the  minute  you  first  walked  in 
this  office.  That's  the  "place  to  get  first 
string  men — right  from  the  country,  and 
Vermont  has  furnished  more  than  her  share. 
They  told  me  you'd  fall  down  because  New 
York  was  too  big  for  you,  but  I  knew  dif 
ferent.  They  can't  fool  me  when  it  comes 
to  judging  men!  I'll  get  our  advertising 
men  right  to  work  on  this  copy,  and  we'll 
hit  the  morning  papers  with  it.  This  is 
great!  Now  if  Sampson's  daughter-in- 


THE  SELF-COMMENCER        107 

law  was  only  in  the  public  eye,  know  what 
I  mean,  this  would  be  wonderful!  We've 
had  a  man  after  Margot  Meringue  for  a 
month,  but  she's  away  somewhere.  You 
probably  won't  know  her;  she's  a  big  movie 
star  and  we'd  give  her  a  car  if  she'd  only 
endorse  it.  Why,  if  we  landed  her— 

"That's  who  Sampson  give  the  car  to," 
says  Alex.  "His  son  and  her  just  got  wed 
and  he  give  her  the  Gaflooey  roadster  for 
a  weddin'  gift.  How  about  that  New  York 
manager  job — do  I  get  it?" 

"Do  you  get  it!"  shrieks  the  president. 
"Why,  say — you're  it,  right  now!" 

"That's  fine!"  says  Alex.  "I'll  take  the 
job  the  day  after  to-morrow!" 

"I  see!"  says  the  president,  breakin'  his 
neck  tryin'  to  make  himself  a  good  fellah. 
"You  want  a  day  off  after  your  labors,  eh?" 

"No!"  says  Alex,  "I  got  to  go  out  and  see 
Sampson  again  to-morrow,  because  havin' 
give  this  roadster  to  his  daughter-in-law, 
naturally  he'll  need  one  for  hisself  now!" 


CHAPTER  III 

PLAY  YOUR  ACE! 

THIS  here  combination  that  opens  the 
door  to  success  is  a  funny  thing— 
everybody's  lookin'  for  it  and  everybody's 
got  it!  Some  guys  knows  just  where  to  put 
their  hands  on  it  when  they  get  the  big 
chance  to  crack  the  safe  of  fame  and  as  a 
result  they  become  boss  bankers  or  boss 
bricklayers — either  of  which  is  a  trick  and 
hard  to  do.  Other  guys  forget  the  first 
three  numbers  or  somethin'  and  never  get 
better  than  John  Smiths  in  the  telephone 
book  of  life. 

It  takes  speed  to  get  a  baseball  from  the 
pitcher  to  the  catcher,  but  it's  control  that 
puts  the  pill  over  the  plate,  which  may  be 
the  answer  to  why  John  D.  Rockefeller 

108 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  109 

ain't  payin'  you  rent  and  you  got  your  first 
time  to  be  elected  president  of  anything, 
from  the  dear  old  V-.  S.  A.  to  the  Red 
Carnation  Social  Club.  Instead  of  sittin' 
around  knockin'  winners  every  time  the 
papers  print  a  new  one,  give  yourself  the 
once  over  and  see  if  you  can  find  out  what 
your  trick  is.  You  may  only  be  able  to  wig 
gle  your  left  ear  funnier  than  anybody  on 
the  block — Great!  Cash  on  it!  It's  a 
cinch  you  can  do  something  and  once  you 
find  out  what  that  somethin'  is,  the  rest  is 
as  easy  as  fallin'  off  Pike's  Peak! 

No — easier!  Because  you  gotta  climb 
Pike's  Peak  before  you  can  fall  off.  You 
may  be  a  guy  like  Hector  Sells,  which 
started  life  with  a  straight  flush,  and  played 
it  like  it  was  a  pair  of  deuces.  If  somebody 
hadn't  peeped  over  his  shoulder,  seen  what 
he  held  and  played  it  for  him,  Hector 
would  still  be  thinkin'  that  the  only  guy  in 
the  world  drawin'  over  twenty  bucks  a  week 
was  J.  P.  Morgan.  As  it  is,  Hector  has 


no  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

$2.75  right  now  for  every  wave  in  the 
ocean,  and  when  you  go  to  see  him,  you  be 
come  acquainted  with  all  the  office  boys  in 
the  world. 

Here's  the  answer. 

One  night  after  dinner  the  wife  and  I 
are  provin'  to  each  other  that  the  road  of 
true  love  is  rough  and  full  of  detours,  when 
they's  a  ring  at  the  bell.  We  practised  self- 
denial  and  laid  off  scrappin'  long  enough 
for  friend  wife  to  open  the  door.  I  made 
a  bet  with  myself  and  win  easy.  In  comes 
Alex. 

"Huh!"  he  says.  "Is  they  an  argument 
goin'  on  here  again?" 

"You  said  it!"  I  tells  him.  "Come  on 
in,  you're  just  in  time.  We'll  make  it 
three-handed!" 

"I  don't  know  why  you  got  married  when 
you're  always  quarrelin',"  he  says,  sittin' 
down. 

"That  ain't  all  you  don't  know!"  I  says. 

"Kindly  lay  off  my  cousin,"  says  the  wife. 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  in 

"They  ain't  no  use  in  showin'  the  world  that 
I  have  married  a  brute!" 

With  that  she  presses  four  dollars'  worth 
of  Irish  lace  against  her  eyes  and  develops 
a  cold  in  the  head.  So  the  same  as  usual, 
I  went  over  and  patted  her  on  the  shoulder 
which  was  shakin'  the  most. 

"You  win,  honey!"  I  says,  with  a  dollar's 
worth  of  vaseline  on  every  word.  "I'll 
never  speak  another  harsh  word  to  you  or 
Alex  again.  The  next  time  I  feel  sarcastic, 
I'll  go  out  in  the  kitchen  and  have  some 
words  with  the  cat.  Everybody  in  the 
apartment  house  knows  what  I  think  of  you, 
and  I  must 'be  wild  over  Alex  or  he'd  never 
be  in  this  flat  a  second  time.  If — " 

"Never  mind  the  salve!"  cuts  in  the  wife. 
"You'd  talk  your  way  out  of  pneumonia!" 

But  they  was  a  smile  went  with  that — the 
same  giggle  that  used  to  make  'em  fight  for 
standin'  room  in  the  Winter  Garden.  So 
we  was  all  happy -and  carefree  again,  with 
the  exception  of  Alex. 


ii2  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"You're  too  easy  with  him!"  he  growls  to 
the  wife,  disappointed  because  peace  had 
come.  "If  you'd  punish  him,  he'd  be  a  bet 
ter  husband." 

"She  does  punish  me  somethin'  cruel!" 
I  says.  "By  invitin'  you  up  every  day!" 

And  then  of  course  all  bets  was  off  and 
we  all  went  over  the  top  again! 

In  about  an  hour,  the  people  in  the  next 
flat  had  enough,  and  mentioned  the  fact  to 
the  landlord.  He  let  us  in  on  it  by  way  of 
the  phone,  and  all  was  quiet  along  the  Hud 
son  again. 

"I  come  up 'here  to-night  to  tell  you  some- 
thin',"  says  Alex. 

"They's  always  the  United  States  mail," 
I  says. 

"I  ain't  talkin'  to  you,  I'm  speakin'  to 
Cousin  Alice!"  snarls  Alex. 

"She  can  read  too!"  I  says. 

"I  been  thinkin'  this  here  thing  over  for 
weeks,"  he  goes  on,  turnin'  his  chair  so's  I 
can  get  a  good  view  of  his  back,  "and  I 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  113 

made  up  my  mind  to-day  to  go  ahead  with 
it." 

"What  is  it,  Alex?"  asks  the  wife,  all  ex 
cited.  "I  know  it's  goin'  to  be  somethin' 
wonderful!" 

"You  ain't  gonna  tell  me  you're  gonna 
stop  eatin'  here,  are  you?"  I  says.  "Be 
cause  if  you  are,  I'm  gonna  beat  it!  I 
heard  tell  of  guys  dyin'  of  joy  and  I  ain't 
takin'  no  chances!" 

"The  whole  trouble  with  you,"  says  Alex, 
"is  a  simple  case  of  jealousy.  You  was 
born  and  brung  up  in  this  rube  burg  called 
New  York  and  the  best  you  could  do  in 
thirty-five  years  was  to  get  yourself  fore 
man  of  a  baseball  team!  I— 

"Yeh !"  I  butts  in.  "I  fell  down  the  same 
as  Caruso.  All  he  can  do  is  sing!" 

"I  come  here  from  Vermont,"  goes  on 
Alex,  now  on  his  favorite  subject,  "and  right 
off  the  reel  I  get  me  a  ten  thousand  a  year 
job,  not  countin'  commissions,  sellin'  autos. 
Now  I  claim  that  what  /  did  in  New  York 


n4  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

can  be  done  by  anybody — and  I'm  here  to 
prove  it!  It's  just  as  easy  to  be  a  roarin' 
success  in  New  York  as  it  is  in  Paterson, 
N.  J. — and  just  as  hard!  There's  many  a 
Charlie  Chaplin  sellin'  groceries  and  many 
a  Theodore  Roosevelt  carryin'  bricks!  In 
their  off  hours  and  in  the  privacy  of  their 
homes,  them  fellers  is  doin'  for  nothing 
what  Chaplin,  Roosevelt,  Dempsey  and  so 
forth  got  paid  off  on!  If  a  man's  a  gam 
bler,  for  instance,  and  he  bets  on  a  race 
horse,  the  chances  are  he  stays  up  all  night 
lookin'  up  the  past  performances  of  that 
horse  and  seein'  just  what  he  can  do  under 
all  conditions.  He  studies  how  the  horse 
finished  on  a  muddy  track  and  where  he 
come  in  when  the  track  was  fast.  He  makes 
note  of  what  the  horse  did  under  different 
weights  and  different  jockeys.  He  watches 
what  it  does  against  certain  other  horses. 
Then  when  he  thinks  everything  is  favor 
able,  he  bets  his  money!  He— 
"Look  here,  Alex!"  I  butts  in.  "Did  you 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  115 

come  all  the  way  up  here  to-night  to  lay  me 
on  a  horse  race?" 

"No!"  he  snorts,  in  disgust,  "I  come  up 
here  to  lay  you  on  yourself!  If  this  same 
man  that  studies  the  dope  before  he  bets  on 
a  horse,  would  study  the  dope  on  himself 
with  the  same  attention  to  detail,  before  he 
enters  the  handicap  of  life — he'd  be  a  win 
ner!  He  wouldn't  have  to  bet  on  no  horses 
or  nothin'  else,  because  he'd  be  his  own  best 
bet!  He'd  find  out  what  his  particular  ace 
was  and  play  it  to  the  limit  every  time !  In 
stead  of  that,  the  average  feller  spends  his 
time  sittin'  in  the  greatest  game  in  the  world 
—life — drawin'  five  cards  every  time  and 
waitin'  for  the  royal  flush  to  be  dealt  him 
pat.  He—" 

"My  goodness,  Alex!"  remarks  the  wife, 
"I  didn't  know  you  was  a  gambler.  Where 
did  you  learn  all  those  poker  terms?" 

"He  once  claimed  casino  was  vicious, 
too!"  I  says. 

Alex  gets  up  and  reaches  for  his  hat. 


n6  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"There  ain't  no  use  talkin'  to  people 
which  has  checked  their  brains  with  the  hat 
boy!"  he  says.  "But  before  I  go,  I  wanna 
tell  you  this.  Every  man  has  got  the  key  to 
his  own  success  buried  in  him  somewhere, 
and  I'll  bet  I  can  take  the  champion  dub  of 
any  given  precinct  and  make  him  a  winner 
the  minute  I  find  out  where  he  hid  his!" 

"Let's  go  to  the  movies,  instead  of  fight- 
in'  like  cats  and  dogs,"  remarks  the  wife, 
puttin'  on  her  handbag. 

"Yesl"  sneers  Alex,  "let's  go  to  the  movies 
and  knock  the  leadin'  man  because  he's  get- 
tin'  $30,000  a  year,  and  let's  explain  to  each 
other  how  he's  gettin'  away  with  murder 
and  ain't  got  a  thing  but  his  looks.  That's 
much  better  than  sittin'  down  and  figurin' 
how  ive  can  make  the  same  amount  of 
money,  if  we — " 

"Look  here,  Alex!"  I  interrupts,  gettin' 
a  trifle  peeved.  "You  took  me  for  eight 
hundred  berries  when  you  first  invaded 
New  York  and,  sucker  like,  I'm  lookin'  for 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  117 

a  come-back.  Are  you  on  the  level  with 
that  stuff  about  you  bein'  able  to  put  any 
body  over  if  you  get  in  their  corner?" 

"Am  I  on  the  level  with  it?"  he  says. 
"Why,  say! — I'm  goin'  in  the  business  of 
makin'  successes  outa  dubs!  I'm  gonna 
take  'em  one  by  one,  put  'em  over  and  charge 
a  reasonable  percentage  for  my  work.  I'm 
sick  and  tired  of  the  automobile  game  and 
I'm  gonna  incorporate  myself  as  Alex  Han- 
ley,  S.  D." 

"What's  the  S.  D.  for?"  I  asks.  "South 
Dakota?" 

"No — Success  Developer!"  he  says.  "I 
ain't  selfish — I  put  myself  over  and  now  I'm 
gonna  put  'em  all  over!  At  the  same  time, 
as  I  say,  I'll  charge  a  reasonable  sum  for  my 
work.  Why  this  is  bigger  business  than 
Wall  Street,  makin'  men  instead  of  breakin' 
'em  and— 

"Stop  talkin'  for  a  second,  Alex,"  I  says, 
"and  get  a  new  sensation!  I  got  an  idea  of 
what  that  reasonable  charge  of  yours  will 


n8  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

be,  that's  provided  your  scheme  works, 
which  it  prob'ly  won't.  If  you  cause  a  guy 
to  make  himself  twenty  dollars,  your  fee 
won't  exceed  a  hundred  and  fifty!-  You're 
as  liberal  with  money  as  Grant's  Tomb  is 
with  advice.  But  if  you're  on  the  level  with 
this,  I'll  bet  you  a  thousand  bucks,  Ameri 
can  money,  to  five  hundred  of  the  same  coin 
age,  that  you'll  flop  like  a  seal  on  your  first 
try.  They's  only  one  thing  you  gotta  do!" 

"What  is  it?"  he  asks.  He  was  thinkin' 
of  them  thousand  bucks  and  his  eyes 
sparkled  till  you  could  of  hocked  'em  any 
wheres  for  five  hundred  apiece. 

"You  gotta  let  me  pick  the  first  victim!"  I 
says. 

"Not  to  change  the  subject,"  remarks  the 
wife  to  me,  "if  you  got  a  thousand  dollars 
for  purposes  of  bettin',  they's  a  ring  in  Tif 
fany's  window  which  will  come  here  to 
morrow  escorted  by  a  C.  O.  D.  bill.  The 
price  and  one  thousand  dollars  is  the  same." 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  119 

"Do  you  think  I  print  this  money  my 
self?"  I  hollers. 

"I  would  of  married  you  long  ago  if  I 
did!"  she  says,  smilin'  sweetly. 

"Think  of  a  man  mean  enough  to  argue 
about  money  with  his  lovin'  wife!"  sneers 
Alex. 

"If  you  was  married,"  I  says,  "your 
wife  would  think  they  had  stopped  the  cir 
culation  of  all  money,  with  the  exception  of 
nickels!" 

"Ha!  Ha!"  he  sneers,  like  a  movie  vil 
lain.  "I  just  give  Eve  Rossiter  an  engage 
ment  ring  that  can  be  pawned  for  eight  hun 
dred  men!" 

"I  think  you're  four  flushin',"  I  hollers, 
gettin'  warmed  up,  "but  you  can't  hang 
nothin'  on  me!  You  go  down  to  Tiffany's, 
honey,"  I  tells  the  wife,  "and  get  that  thou 
sand  buck  ring  —  but  put  up  a  battle  for  it  at 


The  wife  pulls  her  million-dollar  smile 


120  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

and  gimme  a  chaste  salute,  as  the  guy  says, 
on  the  forehead.  Then  she  opens  her  sea- 
goin'  handbag  and  takes  somethin'  out 

"Here  it  is,  dear!"  she  says,  with  the 
giggle  that  made  me  a  married  man,  "I 
knowed  you'd  fall,  so  I  got  it  this  morning! 
It  was  only  $987.  Ain't  I  the  great  little 
buyer?" 

Oh,  boy! 

"Well,"  I  says  to  Alex,,  "it  seems  to  be  the 
open  season  for  takin'  me.  Does  that  bet 
go?" 

"It  does!"  he  says,  rubbin'  his  hands  to 
gether  like  a  crap  shooter. 

"And  I  produce  the  first  candidate  for 
fame  and  fortune?" 

"Bring  him  on!"  he  grins,  winkin'  at  the 
wife — a  thing  he  knows  I  loathe. 

We  shook  hands  on  it  and  I  went  out  into 
the  kitchen  to  laugh  it  over  with  the  cat. 
I'm  a  soft-hearted  boob  and  I  hate  to  take  a 
sucker,  at  that.  But  accordin'  to  my  dope, 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  121 

that  dough  of  friend  Alex's  was  the  same  as 
in  the  bank  in  my  name! 

Now  the  bird  I  had  in  mind  to  make  me 
win  this  bet  from  Alex  was  a  pitcher  I  had 
on  the  payroll  who's  name  was  Hector  Sells. 
He  would  of  been  just  as  rotten  a  ball  player 
if  his  name  had  been  First  Base,  Center 
Field  or  Short  Stop.  He  could  do  every 
thing  in  the  world  with  a  baseball,  with  the 
slight  exception  of  gettin'  it  over  the  plate, 
and,  when  he  pitched,  his  main  difficulty 
was  keepin'  the  pill  outa  left  field.  In  the 
seven  years  he  had  been  stealin'  wages  from 
my  club  his  twirlin'  percentage  read  like 
the  thermometer  in  Alaska  and  when  he 
come  to  bat,  as  far  as  he  ever  found  out,  first 
base  was  in  Berlin.  I  put  him  on  the  third 
base  coachin'  line  one  afternoon  and  he  tries 
to  send  a  runner  back  to  second  when  the 
batter  triples.  I  tried  this  guy  out  at  every 
position  on  the  team  and  he  made  so  many 
errors  that  the  official  scorers  went  out  and 


122  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

bought  addin'  machines  every  time  he  ap 
peared  in  the  line-up.  If  they  was  anything 
on  earth  connected  with  the  game  of  base 
ball  that  Hector  could  do,  he  never  showed 
it  to  me,  and  puttin'  a  uneyform  on  him  was 
the  same  as  givin'  a  blind  man  a  pair  of 
opera  glasses. 

Yet  with  all  this,  that  guy  thought  he 
was  the  greatest  baseball  player  that  ever 
laid  hold  of  a  glove.  He  not  only  thought 
it,  he  conceded  it. 

For  the  past  year,  Hector  had  played  out 
the  schedule  from  the  dugout,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  six  games  he  pitched  against  the 
Athletics.  He  tost  an  even  six.  I  sent  him 
to  every  flag  station  in  North  America 
where  they  looked  on  baseball  as  a  game, 
and  Hector  would  come  back  at  the  end  of 
the  season  with  his  suit  case  jammed  full  of 
unconditional  releases.  Him  and  pneu 
monia  was  just  as  easy  to  get  rid  of  as  far 
as  I  was  concerned  and  we  started  off  every 
season  with  Hector  in  our  midst. 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  123 

Three  winters  in  succession  I  loaned  that 
guy  enough  dough  to  set  himself  up  in  busi 
ness,  so's  he'd  lay  off  me  and  watch  the 
pastime  from  the  grandstand.  He  lost  a 
cigar  store  shootin'  craps,  a  pool  room  bet- 
tin'  with  the  customers  and  a  delicatessen 
because  he  eat  all  the  stock  himself.  I  got 
him  a  job  on  the  road  sellin'  sportin'  goods, 
and  the  only  thing  he  sold  all  year  was  a 
pitcher's  glove  at  $1.25.  He  bought  that 
himself. 

Now  the  thing  is — why  did  I  keep  a  guy 
like  that  on  my  club  for  the  lengthy  space  of 
seven  years?  The  newspaper  birds  claimed 
Hector  had  seen  me  murder  somebody  or 
somethin',  because  they  says  I  wouldn't  let 
him  in  a  ball  park  with  a  ticket,  if  he  didn't 
have  somethin'  on  me  that  must  be  kept 
from  the  world  at  any  price.  Well,  it 
wasn't  nothin'  like  that — but  it  was  some- 
thin'  just  as  good,  as  the  grocer  says.  Me 
and  Hector  was  kids  together  in  the  same 
ward,  and  when  we  started  out  to  dumfound 


i24  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

the  world,  he  had  a  bankroll  which  his  be 
loved  father  left  him  and  I  had  nothin'  but 
freckles.  I  practically  lived  off  that  guy 
till  me  and  real  money  became  well  ac 
quainted,  so  I  coukln't  see  him  get  the  worst 
of  it  now.  It  would  of  broke  his  heart  if  he 
ever  got  shoved  outa  organized  baseball- 
he  was  a  maniac  about  the  game!  So  Hec 
tor  drawed  his  dough  every  season,  come 
what  may — and  at  that  I  was  doin'  no  more 
than  he  did  for  me. 

I  managed  to  keep  him  busy  in  some  way 
about  the  park — always  with  a  uneyform  on 
— and  now  and  then  I  let  him  pitch  an  innin' 
when  we  had  the  game  locked  away  in  the 
safe  deposit  vault.  In  all  the  seven  years, 
he  never  missed  a  single  day  showin'  up  at 
the  park  and  he  was  the  rottenest  ball  player 
that  ever  stood  under  a  shower.  Them  was 
Hector's  two  records! 

Well,  I  dragged  Alex  out  to  the  ball  park 
the  next  day  and  pointed  out  Hector  to  him. 
We  was  playin'  St.  Looey  and  along  around 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  125 

the  sixth  innin'  we  had  the  game  sewed  up 
so  tight  that  they  couldn't  of  won  it  in  a 
raffle.  I  took  out  Harmon  and  sent  Hector 
in  to  pitch. 

"Gaze  over  this  bird  carefully,  Alex!"  I 
says,  "because  he's  the  baby  you're  gonna 
pay  off  on!  I  claim  you  are  now  peerin'  at 
the  champion  dub  of  the  world.  If  you 
can  make  a  winner  outa  him  or  discover 
what  he  has  failed  to  develop  that  would 
make  him  one,  I'll  not  only  pay  my  end  of 
our  bet  with  a  grin,  but  I'll  throw  in  a 
weddin'  chest  of  silver  for  you  and  Eve 
Rossiter!" 

"Write  that  down!"  says  Alex;  "and  sign 
your  full  name  to  it!" 

"You  don't  think  I'd  welsh  on  you,  do 
you?"  I  says,  gettin'  sore. 

"I  don't  know  if  they's  enough  ink  in  this 
or  not,"  he  answers,  handin'  me  a  fountain 
pen.  "Write  it  on  the  back  of  this  card." 

When  the  crowd  sees  Hector  strollin'  out 
to  the  box,  they  give  him  his  usual  reception, 


126  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

which  was  the  same  as  the  Kaiser  would 
have  got  if  he'd  walked  down  Broadway 
along  in  April,  1917.  The  first  guy  up 
for  St.  Looey  hit  a  roller  through  the 
box  and  Hector  stood  on  his  left  shoulder 
tryin'  to  pick  it  up.  The  runner  only  got 
as  far  as  second  before  Hector  arose. 
The  next  guy  put  a  neat  round  hole  in  the 
right  field  fence,  makin'  it  two  runs.  Well, 
before  it  was  three  out  they  had  got  four 
more  and  the  only  guy  connected  with 
the  St.  Looey  team  that  didn't  get  a  hit  was 
the  owner.  They  only  quit  slammin'  the 
pill  because  they  had  batted  themselves  sick 
and  could  no  longer  stagger  up  to  the  plate. 

Hector  comes  to  bat  in  the  next  innin' 
with  the  bases  as  full  as  a  miner  on  pay 
night.  He  lets  two  go  by,  right  in  the  slot, 
and  he  fell  down  skinnin'  his  nose,  swing- 
in'  at  the  next  for  the  third  and  last  strike. 

I  removed  him  by  hand  and  sent  in  a  ball 
player  to  pitch  the  rest  of  the  game. 

"Well,  Alex,"  I  says  on  the  way  home, 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  127 

"what    do    you    think    of    your    patient?" 

"Is  he  as  bad  as  that  every  day?"  he  asks 
me. 

"No,"  I  says.  "He  was  Ty  Cobb  and 
Walter  Johnson  to-day,  alongside  of  what 
he  usually  is!" 

"Hmmph!"  grunts  Alex.  "I  can  see  he 
ain't  a  ball  player,  anyway." 

"You  been  readin'  'Sherlock  Holmes,'  "  I 
says. 

"Baseball  ain't  everything!"  declares 
Alex,  rubbin'  his  nose.  "And  the  point  we 
have  to  consider  is — what  can  he  do?" 

"That's  easy!"  I  says.  "How  much  is 
seven  from  seven?" 

"Why — nothin',"  says  Alex. 

"That's  Hector!"  I  says. 

With  that  I  told  him  Hector's  pedigree 
from  the  time  he  crossed  my  path  when  an 
infant,  to  date.  I  left  out  nothin'  and  laid 
it  on  good  and  thick.  I  explained  how 
Hector  had  been  the  world's  most  consist 
ent  failure  from  the  time  he  had  been  in- 


128  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

troduced  as  "It's  a  boy!"  up  to  the  time  of 
writin'  and  when  I  got  all  through,  Alex 
grins  like  a  wolf. 

" A.  most  promisin'  case!"  he  says.  "This 
here's  somethin'  that's  gonna  put  me  on  my 
mettle,  right  at  the  start.  The  tougher  a 
thing  looks,  the  more  appetizin'  it  strikes 
me!  Now  I'll  take  it  for  granted  that  this 
man's  got  no  strong  points.  All  right — 
that's  nothin'  but  a  detail!  You've  told  me 
a  lot  of  hard  things  about  him,  but  you  ain't 
said  he  ain't  human — and  if  he's  human  he's 
got  a  'weakness!  A  well-developed  weak 
ness  in  a  man  has  often  been  turned  into 
glitterin'  gold.  Does  he  drink?" 

"Let's  save  time,"  I  says.  "Hector  don't 
know  whether  whiskey  and  beer  is  drinks, 
or  the  battery  for  to-day's  game.  He 
couldn't  tell  you  offhand  whether  tobacco 
was  a  thing  to  chew  and  smoke  or  the  latest 
fox  trot.  The  only  woman  he  ever  met 
twice  was  his  mother,  and  he  thinks  sayin' 
'Darnation!'  in  earnest  is  the  same  as  homo- 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  129 

cide.  His  only  love  is  baseball  and  his  only 
weakness  is  his  stomach!" 

"Aha!"  says  Alex.  "I  knew  we'd  get  at 
it!  He's  fond  of  food,  eh?" 

"Fond  of  it?"  I  says.  "Why,  this  guy 
can  do  more  things  with  a  steak  than  Edi 
son  can  do  with  a  pint  of  electricity!  He 
took  me  to  a  dinner  he  cooked  himself  one 
night  and  the  only  thing  I  recognized  on 
the  table  was  the  water.  Everything  was 
fixed  up  after  his  own  recipes  and  at  the 
drop  of  a  hat  he  can  tell  you  how  many  of 
them  calories  and  proteins  they  is  in  a  pea!" 

"That's  enough!"  hollers  Alex.  "He's 
as  good  as  over  right  now!  He  simply 
picked  the  wrong  trade  when  he  took  up 
baseball,  and  I'll  get  him  a  job  as  chef  in 
one  of  the  famous  hotels  so — 

"Don't  make  me  laugh!"  I  cuts  him  off. 
"Would  I  of  bet  you,  if  it  was  as  easy  as 
that?  They  ain't  a  chance  on  earth — I 
thought  of  that  years  ago.  Hector 
wouldn't  iboil  water  for  money — he  only 


130  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

cooks   that   stuff  up    for   himself.     He— 

"A  true  artist,  eh?"  says  Alex,  kinda 
thoughtful.  "That  makes  it  all  the  better! 
Bring  him  up  for  dinner  to-morrow  night 
and  let  me  study  him.  In  a  week  I'll  col 
lect  that  little  bet  from  you  and  then  I'll 
be  ready  to  take  on  the  next  case." 

"You  certainly  stand  well  with  yourself, 
don't  you?"  I  sneers.  "Well,  lemme  give 
you  a  little  tip.  Don't  try  to  get  that  bird 
to  give  up  baseball,  because  they  ain't  a 
Chinaman's  chance  of  that!  The  only 
chance  you  got  is  to  put  him  over  as  a  ball 
player,  and  if  you  can  do  that,  I  can  sell 
electric  fans  to  the  Esquimaux!" 

"Bring  him  up  to-morrow  night,"  says 
Alex,  grinnin'  like  a  wolf.  "This  looks 
like  a  cinch  to  me!" 

I  went  to  Hector  in  the  clubhouse  the  next 
afternoon.  He  had  had  a  hard  day  play- 
in'  the  White  Sox — from  the  bench. 

"Where  are  you  goin'  to-night?"  I  asks 
him. 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  131 

He  flushes  up  a  bit. 

"Well,  Mac,"  he  says,  "I  have  finally 
found  a  joint  where  they  know  how  to  cook 
'em  without  abusin'  'em  and  I  was  figurin' 
on  goin'  there  first,  so— 

"Cook  what?"  I  butts  in. 

"Alligator  pears!"  he  says.  "Y'know 
they  is  a  lot  of  nourishment  in  them  babies 
when  they're  properly  prepared  and— 

"You'll  be  around  at  that  beanery  to-mor 
row  night!"  I  shuts  him  off.  "To-night 
you're  comin'  up  and  have  dinner  with 


me." 


He  gets  one  shade  redder. 

"Why,"  he  stammers,  "Ahumph!     That 

— er — that's  terrible  fine  of  you,  Mac,  but 

on  the  level,  I — y'know  this  place  is  the  only 

one  in  New  York  where  they  can  cook  them 

things  and  I'm  a  hound  after  them!     I— 

"Come  on!"  I  says.  "We're  gonna  give 
the  subway  a  play.  The  wife's  expectin' 
you  and  I  got  a  friend  that's  crazy  to  meet 
you.  Are  you  gonna  throw  me  down?" 


132  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

He  backs  away  and  ruffles  his  hair. 

"Mac,"  he  says,  "I'll  have  dinner  with 
you  to-night  on  one  condition!" 

"Shoot!"  I  says. 

"Well,  Mac,"  he  tells  me,  "they  ain't  no 
doubt  in  my  mind  that  your  wife  is  some 
cook,  but  if  I'm  gonna  eat  this  stuff — I— 
well,  I  demand  the  privilege  of  cookin'  it!" 

"Where  d'ye  get  that  stuff?"  I  says. 
"Why—" 

"Lemme  do  this,  Mac,"  he  says,  "and 
you'll  never  regret  it.  I  can  hang  it  on  any 
chef  in  New  York  for  money  and  you'll  eat 
the  greatest  meal  you  ever  got  outside  of  in 
your  life!" 

Well,  this  was  new  stuff  to  me,  but  I  fig 
ured  I  was  gonna  get  five  hundred  bucks 
outa  it  by  way  of  Alex,  so  I  fell. 

"All  right!"  I  says.  "Come  up  and  cook 
your  head  off.  I'm  game!  But  if  you're 
as  good  a  cook  as  you  are  a  ball  player,  I 
can  see  where  me  and  the  wife  suspends 
friendly  relations  for  about  a  year!" 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  133 

Alex  is  already  on  hand  when  we  get  to 
the  house  and  I  introduced  him  to  Hector. 

"Howdy!"  he  says.  "I  seen  you  pitch 
the  other  day  and  I  must  say  it  was  a  treat! 
The  support  they  give  you  was  brutal  or 
you'd  of  shut  them  other  fellers  out  with 


ease." 


"You  know  it!"  says  Hector.  "If  they's 
any  one  thing  I  can  do,  it's  play  baseball. 
That's  my  dish!" 

The  wife  horns  in. 

"I'm  so  glad  to  meet  you,  Mister  Sells," 
she  says,  givin'  Hector  the  old  oil.  "My 
husband  talks  of  nothin'  but  you  night  and 
day!" 

Which  was  true — only  not  the  way  she 
meant  it. 

"That's  fine!"  says  Hector.  "Me  and 
Mac  has  been  friends  since  they  burnt 
Rome.  Where's  the  kitchen?" 

I  showed  him,  and  the  wife  shakes  her 
head  as  much  as  to  say,  "Another  rummy, 
eh?"  I  steered  Hector  over  to  the  ice  box 


i34  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

and  told  him  to  go  ahead  and  run  wild. 
When  I  come  out,  Alex  is  featurin'  his  fa 
mous  grin,  and  I  gotta  show  the  wife  my 
breath.  In  about  ten  minutes  the  kitchen 
door  opens  and  Hector's  head  pops  out. 
His  hands  is  full  of  flour  and  so's  his  suit 
for  that  matter,  but  his  face  is  all  lit  up  like 
Coney  Island. 

"I  don't  wanna  be  no  bother,  Mrs.  Mac," 
he  pipes,  "but  could  a  man  get  a  apron 
around  here?" 

We  got  him  inside  of  some  gingham,  and 
he  disappeared  into  the  kitchen  again. 

"Where  d'ye  get  them  birds?"  says  the 
wife,  noddin'  after  him. 

"Sssh!"  says  Alex.  "That  feller  there  is 
gonna  make  us  all  rich  before  the  month 
is  over!  We'll  have  more  money  than  we 
can  count  and— 

"Oh,  won't  that  be  grand!"  says  the  wife, 
who'd  believe  Alex  if  he  told  her  Mis 
souri  started  the  war.  "Then  I  can  have 
everything  I  want." 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  135 

"I  thought  that  happened  when  you  got 
me"  I  says. 

"Still,"  she  sighs,  payin'  me  no  attention 
as  usual,  "money  ain't  everything." 

"No,"  says  Alex,  "but  it'll  get  it!" 

"We  always  was  used  to  money,"  goes 
on  the  wife,  gettin'  kinda  doped  under  the 
influence  of  the  sweet  and  savory  odors 
which  was  comin'  from  the  kitchen.  "You 
know,  Alex,  that  our  family  was  connected 
with  the  best  people  in  Vermont." 

"They  ain't  got  a  thing  on  a  telephone 
operator,"  I  says.  "They  get  connected 
with  the  best  people  in  the  United  States 
every  day!" 

I  don't  get  a  tumble  from  either  of  them. 

"There  was  Great-uncle  Ed,"  proceeds 
the  wife,  kinda  dreamy.  "If  he  hadn't 
died  so  sudden,  he'd  of  been  worth  a  mil 
lion." 

I  tried  my  luck  again. 

"That's  the  one  that  turned  out  to  be  a 
carbolic  acid  fiend,  ain't  it?"  I  says. 


136  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

At  this  point,  the  greatest  meal  that  ever 
played  a  date  at  our  flat,  come  outa  the 
kitchen  escorted  by  Hector.  One  whiff  of 
that  layout  and  the  greatest  chef  in  the 
world  would  of  gone  out  and  bought  a  re 
volver.  Hector  is  nothin'  but  smiles. 

"Give  this  a  whirl!"  he  says.  "And 
lemme  know  what  you  think  of  it.  I  didn't 
have  much  to  work  with — only  lamb  chops, 
vegetables  and  the  like,  but  I  did  what  I 
could." 

Oh,  boy! — that  was  some  feed!  Conver 
sation  lagged  a  bit  for  about  half  a  hour, 
while  we  fell  to  and  demolished  this  stuff, 
and  Hector  swells  up  like  a  human  yeast 
cake  under  the  kind  words  that  come  his 
way.  Finally,  we  had  to  quit  eatin'  for 
lack  of  further  accommodations  and  the 
wife  tells  Hector  that  they  ain't  no  doubt 
about  it,  as  a  cook  he  wins  the  garage. 

"Oh,  that's  nothin',"  he  says,"  gettin'  an 
attack  of  modesty.  "I'm  kinda  fussy  about 
my  food  and  I  been  figurin'  out  different 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  137 

ways  of  cookin'  up  stuff  to  get  the  best  outa 
it,  for  years.  That's  the  only  amusement 
I  got.  I  ain't  so  much  as  a  cook,  'but  you 
oughta  see  me  play  ball,  heh,  Mac?" 

The  old  glitter  comes  into  Alex's  eyes. 

"I  seen  you  play  ball,  Mister  Sells,"  he 
says,  "and  you  are  a  knockout!  But  what 
you  just  said  about  food  interests  me  more. 
I'm  kinda  odd  regardin'  vittles  myself  and 
what  I  seen  in  the  paper  to-day  has  got  me 
worried  sick." 

"What  was  that?"  says  Hector. 

"Well,"  says  Alex,  "there's  gonna  be  a 
fearful  shortage  of  all  kinds  of  meats  and 
vegetables,  because  all  the  available  food 
in  the  U.  S.  is  about  to  be  seized  for  the 
army.  This  time  next  year  we'll  all  prob'ly 
be  livin'  on  bread  and  water  and  lucky  to 
get  it!" 

Hector  gets  as  white  as  precipitated 
chalk. 

"You  don't  mean  it!"  he  gasps,  gettin' 
half  outa  his  chair. 


138  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"It's  a  fact,"  says  Alex.  "I  was  only 
readin'  it  this  mornin'." 

I  thought  Hector  was  gonna  fall  dead  at 
our  feet. 

"But — but  what  am  /  gonna  do?"  he  says, 
kinda  dazed. 

"What  are  you  gonna  do?"  I  sneers. 
"What  are  we  all  gonna  do?" 

"You  don'-t  get  me!"  he  says.  "It's  all 
well  enough  for  you  guys  which  can  eat 
common  ordinary  food  like  ham  and  eggs 
and  steaks  and  chops,  but  I  can't  go  that 
stuff!  All  the  time  I  ain't  out  at  the  ball 
park  I'm  experimentin'  with  different  kinds 
of  stuff  to  eat,  and  if  they  go  to  work  and 
shut  off  all  them  rare  vegetables  and  so 
forth  on  me — well,  I  don't  eat,  that's  all!" 

He  gets  up  and  reaches  for  his  hat. 

"Well,"  says  Alex,  "I  can  see  that  you 
and  me  is  pretty  much  alike.  I  can't  eat 
porterhouse  steaks  and  French  lamb  chops 
as  a  steady  diet,  either!  My  stomach 
craves  them  rare  dishes  the  same  as  yours 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  139 

does,  and  it  sure  looks  like  you  and  me  is 
gonna  starve  to  death  when  this  food  con 
servation  thing  goes  through!" 

Hector  slaps  his  hands  together  and 
squares  his  jaw. 

"I  ain't  gonna  starve!"  he  says.  "They 
has  got  to  be  1,500  calories  and  a  amount  of 
proteins  in  proportion  go  into  my  system 
every  day.  Not  only  that,  it's  gotta  be  in  a 
tasty  form!  I'm  gonna  go  home  and  figure 
this  thing  out  so's  I'll  be  took  care  of  when 
the  government  grabs  off  all  the  food  sup 
plies.  They  must  be  somethin'  a  man  can 
do!  Good  night,  folks — and  thanks  for  the 
use  of  the  kitchen." 

With  that  he  blows. 

"I  think  he's  a  nut!"  remarks  the  wife, 
when  the  hall  door  bangs. 

"Leave  him  be!"  says  Alex,  rubbin'  his 
hands  together,  a  habit  that  gets  my  goat. 
"I  got  him  started  now  and— 

"Say!"  I  says.  "I  didn't  see  nothin'  in 
no  paper  about  the  government  gonna  seize 


1 40  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

all  the  eats.  I  think  you  was  kiddin'  Hec 
tor,  myself!" 

"You  didn't  see  the  Civil  War,  either, 
did  you?"  says  Alex.  "I  suppose  you  don't 
ibelieve  that,  eh?  I  told  you  I  was  gonna 
put  this  feller  over  and  if  you'll  leave  me 
be,  I  will!  I  told  you  every  man  had  an 
ace  buried  somewhere,  didn't  I?  Well, 
Hector's  ace  is  his  mad  infatuation  for  his 
stomach.  He's  never  played  it  yet,  because 
there's  been  no  reason  to  do  so.  As  long 
as  he  had  the  money,  he  could  buy  the  stuff 
and  hash  it  up  in  any  way  *his  peculiar 
tastes  desired.  Once  he  thinks  he  cant  do 
fhat,  he'll  put  all  he's  got  under  his  hat  into 
findin'  a  way  to  get  all  them  proteins  and 
calories  he  wants.  I've  given  him  some- 
thin'  he  never  had  before — an  incentive — 
and—" 

"What  do  you  figure  Hector's  gonna  do 
to  startle  the  world?"  I  says. 

"Search  me!"  says  Alex,  grinnin',  "but 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  141 

we'll  all  get  paid  off  on  whatever  it  is,  you 
can  gamble  on  that!" 

The  wife  sniffs. 

"I  never  heard  tell  of  no  man  that 
couldn't  eat  porterhouse  steaks!"  she  says. 

"I  seen  a  lot  of  them  to-day,"  says  Alex, 
puttin'  on  his  coat. 

"Where?"  asks  the  wife. 

"I  was  passin'  the  Evergreen  Cemetery!" 
says  Alex.  "Good  night,  all!" 

The  next  day,  Hector  comes  to  me  before 
the  game  and  you  never  seen  such  a  change 
in  a  guy  in  your  life!  He  looked  like  he 
hadn't  slept  a  wink  since  they  buried  Wash 
ington  and  he's  as  nervous  as  a  steam  drill. 

"Mac,"  he  says,  "I  wanna  ask  two  favors 
off  of  you,  the  first  I  asked  in  a  long  while." 

"Shoot,  Hector!"  I  tells  him.  "You 
know  I  can  deny  you  nothin'." 

"I  want  a  week  off  and  the  loan  of  five 
hundred  bucks,"  he  says. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  I  says.     "Take  two  weeks 


i42  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

off  and  forget  about  the  five  hundred,  heh?" 

"No,  Mac — I  gotta  have  the  dough!"  he 
says.  "With  what  I  got  saved  up,  I  figure 
it'll  be  ample." 

"Ample  for  what?"  I  asks. 

"I  can't  tell  no  man  nothin'  about  it  now," 
he  answers,  "but  when  I  come  back  from 
my  vacation,  I'll  let  you  in  on  it.  I  don't 
like  to  say  this,  Mac — but  when  I  was  slip- 
pin'  it  to  you,  I  never  asked  whether  you 
wanted  it  to  get  a  hair  cut  with  or  to  try 
and  put  Wall  Street  on  the  bum.  If— 

"That's  enough!"  I  cuts  him  off,  takin' 
out  the  roll.  "Here  you  are,  Hector — and 
if  you  want  any  more  they's  plenty  of  it 
where  that  come  from!" 

They  was — in  the  mint. 

When  Hector  had  put  some  distance  be 
tween  himself  and  the  iball  park,  I  begin 
to  think  the  thing  over.  If  he  did  pull  any 
startlin'  stunt,  I  stood  to  lose  a  thousand 
bucks,  not  countin'  the  weddin'  gift,  to 
Alex.  They  was  five  hundred  more  I'd 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  143 

invested  right  then,  makin'  fifteen  hundred 
in  all,  which  I  considered  was  gettin'  into 
money.  For  all  I  knowed,  Hector  and 
Alex  might  be  f  ramin'  me  and  they  ain't  no 
man  livin'  who  loves  bein'  a  sucker. 

I  decided  right  then  and  there  to  shoot 
another  nickel  on  the  thing  and  I  called  up 
the  Ryan  Detective  Agency.  Mike  Ryan 
had  been  a  friend  of  me  and  Hector  since 
we'd  been  in  baseball.  I  told  him  the 
whole  layout  and  asked  for  a  report  on  the 
activities  of  Hector  the  followin'  day,  if 
possible. 

It  was  three  days  'before  I  seen  Ryan's 
report.  He  give  it  to  me  himself  by 
mouth. 

"Say!"  he  says.  "This  Hector  bird  has 
gone  nutty,  and  I  suppose  bein'  friends  of 
his,  you  and  me  had  better  have  him  put 
away  where  he  can't  do  himself  no  vio 
lence." 

" What's  he  doin'?"  I  asks. 

"Well,"   says   Ryan,   "I'll  give  you   the 


144  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

dope  since  he  left  the  ball  park  on  Monday. 
The  first  thing  he  does  is  go  to  the  bank  and 
draw  out  every  nickel  he's  got.  Then  he 
moves  from  the  hotel  to  Cereal  Crossin', 
N.  J.  This  burg  casts  eleven  votes  for 
president  every  four  years  and  they  all  work 
on  the  same  farm.  Hector  hires  a  shack 
away  out  in  the  middle  of  the  woods  there 
and,  from  then  on,  boxes  and  crates  begins 
to  arrive  for  him  from  everywheres  but 
Brazil.  I  met  up  with  a  Secret  Service 
guy  who  had  dropped  in  to  get  a  line  on 
what  kinda  bombs  Hector  was  makin'  be 
fore  pinchin'  him,  and  we  went  through 
this  express  stuff  durin'  the  night.  The 
first  crate  we  tackled  contained  all  the  glass 
ware  in  the  world  of  a  medical  nature. 
They  was  bottles,  test  tubes,  bowls  and  all 
the  stuff  usual  found  in  a  practical  anar 
chist's  workshop.  After  the  first  peep,  the 
Secret  Service  guy  wanted  to  run  right  over 
and  fit  Hector  with  iron  bracelets,  but  I 
got  him  to  hold  off  long  enough  to  look 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  145 

over  the  rest  of  the  stuff.  We  went 
through  every  box  and  what  d'ye  think  we 
found  in  'em?" 

"I  wasn't  there,"  I  says.     "Tell  me." 

"Well,"  says  Ryan,  grinnin',  "when  all 
this  stuff  was  assembled,  it  would  make  a 
first  class  delicatessen  shop  and  that's  all! 
They  was  meats,  cheese,  olive  oil,  fish,  veg 
etables,  pickles,  mustard  and  about  fifteen 
other  eatables  I  never  seen  or  heard  tell  of 
before  in  my  life!  We  busted  a  lot  of  it 
open,  lookin'  for  explosives,  but  they  was 
all  on  the  level.  Why,  that  bird's  got 
enough  stuff  down  there  to  keep  him  in 
food  for  the  rest  of  his  life!" 

I  bust  out  laughin'. 

"Ha,  ha!"  I  says.  "That's  it!  The  poor 
fathead  went  and  fell  for  that  bunk  Alex 
handed  him  and  he's  gone  and  laid  in  that 
stuff  so's  he  won't  starve  when  the  govern 
ment  seizes  the  food  supplies.  Can  you  tie 
that?" 

"I  always  thought  he  was  a  little  queer," 


i46  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

says  Ryan.  ''Especially  when  he  claims 
he's  a  ball  player.  Let's  get  him  in  some 
nice,  private  sanitarium  somewheres  and 
I'll  split  the  bill  with  you." 

"Leave  him  alone!"  I  says.  "I'll  take 
care  of  this  myself.  If  he  stays  there  long 
enough,  I  gotta  chance  to  win  a  piece  of 
money  and— 

"All  right !"  says  Ryan.  "It  ain't  no  milk 
outa  my  coffee,  but  that  bird  oughta  be  un 
der  lock  and  key!" 

I  could  hardly  wait  to  tell  Alex  about 
Hector's  first  step  towards  success.  I  rung 
him  up  immediately  and  give  him  the  dope, 
windin'  up  by  askin'  when  he'd  be  ready  to 
pay  me  off. 

"Pay  you  off?"  he  says.  "Save  that 
comedy  for  Cousin  Alice!  Just  you  leave 
Hector  be  now;  from  what  you  tell  me 
everything's  goin'  fine  and— 

"Coin'  fine?"  I  hollers.  "When  that 
poor  simp  buries  himself  in  Jersey  with  all 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  147 

the  food  in  the  world,  do  you  call  that 
makin'  good?" 

"Gimme  a  week!"  says  Alex.  "He  said 
he'd  be  back  then,  and  if  he  ain't  shown 
somethin'  by  that  time,  you  get  the  check." 

"Fair  enough!"  I  says,  "and  have  it  cer 
tified." 

The  followin'  Monday  night,  Alex  as 
usual  is  honorin'  me  and  the  wife  with  his 
presence  at  dinner.  I  was  in  such  good 
humor  that  I  didn't  as  much  as  wince  when 
he  calls  for  another  piece  of  roast  beef,  mak 
in'  an  even  eight.  Hector  'had  failed  to  ap 
pear  as  advertised  and  the  noted  Success 
Developer  had  promised  to  pay  me  off  be 
fore  he  left.  They  was  a  ring  at  the  bell 
and  the  wife  ushers  in  Hector,  ruinin'  the 
night  for  me! 

"I  would  of  reported  at  the  ball  park 
this  afternoon  like  I  promised,"  he  says, 
"only  I  was  in  a  burg  where  the  only  time 
a  train  ever  stopped  there  was  when  one 
went  off  the  track." 


148  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

I  hardly  knowed  it  was  the  same  Hector 
which  went  away  the  week  before.  His 
cheeks  was  filled  out  past  the  legal  limit 
and  he  had  a  color  that  would  make  an  in 
surance  company  let  him  write  his  own 
policy.  He  was  Alfred  Q.  Health — that's 
all! 

"I'm  sorry  to  see  you  people  eatin'  the 
flesh  of  the  cow,  roasted  in  an  unscientific 
manner,"  he  says.  "One  slab  of  that  is  shy 
just  forty-eight  calories  and  they's  more 
proteins  in  a  filetted  bean!"  He  reaches 
in  his  pocket  and  pulls  out  a  little  package. 
"If  I  can  draw  up  a  chair  here,"  he  says, 
"I'll  have  dinner  with  you." 

"I'll  get  another  plate,"  says  the  wife, 
"and  some  coffee— 

"Not  a  thing!"  says  Hector.  "I  got  mine 
with  me!"  With  that  he  unwraps  the 
package  and  pulls  out  a  thing  about  the  size 
of  a  deck  of  cards.  I  thought  at  first  it  was 
a  razor  hone,  but  Hector  bites  into  it. 
"Just  a  glass  of  water,"  he  says,  "though 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  149 

with   this   a  man   don't  even   need   that!" 

Alex  bounces  outa  his  chair  and  gimme 
the  laugh. 

"What's  that?"  he  hollers  at  Hector. 

"That,"  says  Hector,  "is  the  last  word  in 
calories,  protein  and  nourishment!  It  con 
tains  each  and  every  juice  and  sustainin' 
part  of  all  meats  and  vegetables  known  to 
man,  with  a  little  glutein  invention  of  my 
own  combined.  It  has  got  it  forty  ways  on 
all  other  patent  foods,  because  it's  not  only 
nourishing  it's  so  darned  tasty  that  once  you 
eat  it  you  get  the  habit,  like  dope  or  some- 
thin',  and  you  can't  eat  anything  else!  It'll 
keep  forever  without  ice  or  preservatives. 
You  don't  need  liquids  with  it,  it  supplies 
its  own  juices.  It's  got  a  kick  like  booze 
and  they  ain't  no  alcohol  in  it.  I  invented 
it  and  I  been  livin'  on  it  all  week.  Look 
me  over  and— 

"Gimme  a  bite!"  yells  Alex. 

He  grabs  this  weird  lookin'  slab  of  gue 
and  takes  a  mouthful. 


1 50  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Oh,  lady!"  he  hollers.  "They's  just  two 
things  I  wanna  know.  What  does  it  cost 
to  make  this  stuff,  and  will  it  stand  scientific 
tests?" 

"It  costs  about  two  cents  a  square,  roughly 
speakin',"  says  Hector,  "and  it'll  stand  any 
test  in  the  world!  Three  of  them  things  is 
the  day's  food  for  a  healthy  man  and— 

"Will  you  lend  me  one  for  two  days?" 
asks  Alex,  reachin'  for  his  coat  and  hat. 

Hector  pulls  out  another  package. 

"Sure!"  he  says.  "I  brung  one  along  for 
you,  because  you  claimed  you  was  the  same 
as  me  when  it  come  to— 

But  Alex  and  the  trick  cake  of  collapsible 
food  was  gone! 

He  showed  up  at  the  ball  park  the  end 
of  the  week,  when  Hector  was  pitchin' 
against  the  Red  Sox.  They  got  seven  runs 
off  him  in  the  second  innin'  and  I  was  just 
yankin'  him  out,  when  Alex  come  runnin' 
down  to  the  dugout. 

"Hector!"    he   hollers.     "You're   a    rich 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  151 

man!  No  more  baseball  for  yours — why, 
you  can  buy  a  team  if  you  want  it  and— 

"I  thought  you  claimed  you  never  drank," 
I  says. 

"What  is  your  friend  ravin'  about?"  in 
quires  Hector. 

Alex  answers  by  shovin'  a  pink  slip  of 
paper  into  his  hands.  It  was  the  first  check 
for  fifty  thousand  bucks  I  ever  seen  in  my 
life  and  it  was  signed  by  the  secretary  of  the 
U.  S.  treasury! 

"Why — what  kinda  stuff  is  this?"  mut 
ters  Hector,  turnin'  the  check  over  and  over. 
"It's  made  out  to  me!  Why — who — where 
—who  give  you— 

"It's  all  yours!"  says  Alex,  rubbin'  his 
hands  together  and  displayin'  all  his  back 
teeth.  "I  took  your  food  to  Washington 
and  got  the  government  experts  to  try  it  out. 
They  been  lookin'  for  a  one-piece  ration 
for  the  army.  They  wanted  somethin' 
cheap,  palatable  and  nourishin'  that  the  men 
would  take  to.  They  was  after  a  food  that 


152  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

could  be  easily  packed  and  shipped.  They 
give  your  food  every  possible  test  and  ac 
cepted  it.  That  fifty  thousand  is  only  a 
first  payment — we  still  got  four  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  comin'  for  the  invention 
and—" 

"My  Gawdl"  gasps  Hector.  "They  give 
up  all  this  money  for  that?" 

"Sure!"  rattles  on  Alex.  "And  all  you 
gotta  do  is  go  to  the  laboratory  they're 
gonna  build  and  show  'em  how  to  make  it. 
We  still  got  four  hundred  and— 

"Where  d'ye  get  that  we  stuff?"  I  butts 
in,  seem'  my  bet  with  Alex  goin'  south. 
"Hector  put  that  over  and— 

"And  I  put  him  over!"  says  Alex.  "I'm 
the  young  feller  that  showed  him  where  his 
ace  was!  I  therefore  take  one  thousand 
dollars  from  you,  with  that  weddin'  chest 
of  silver,  and  I'll  only  charge  Hector  ten 
per  cent  of  his  profits,  as  he  was  my  first 
patient.  I — " 

"Let's    git    outa    here!"    pipes    Hector 


PLAY  YOUR  ACE!  153 

hoarsely.  "Think  of  me  with  fifty  thou 
sand  berries  and  more  on  the  fire!" 

Well,  we  all  met  at  the  flat  the  next  after 
noon  to  celebrate.  The  wife  suggested  a 
theatre  party  with  all  that  goes  with  it,  and 
I  was  lookin'  over  the  papers  to  pick  out 
a  good  show.  Alex  is  walkin'  up  and  down 
the  room,  rubbin'  them  hands  of  his  to 
gether. 

"Well,  well,  well!"  he  says,  slappin'  Hec 
tor  on  the  back.  "To  think  that  the  days 
of  slavery  is  all  over!  No  more  reportin' 
at  the  ball  park  every  day,  no  more  spring 
trainin',  no  more  watchin'  'em  hit  and  run. 
That  must  be  great  after  seven  years  of  hav- 
in'  to  see  it  and— 

"Yeh!"  mumbles  Hector,  kinda  glum. 
He's  all  dressed  up  like  a  broken  arm  and 
takin'  it  just  as  hard. 

"Well,"  I  says,  "where  will  we  go?  We 
got  all  the  shows  in  New  York  to  pick 
from  and — " 

"Get  one  that  will  give  Mister  Sells  a 


154  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

chance  to  really  relax  and  enjoy  himself," 
says  the  wife.  "Somethin'  that  will  allow 
him  to  forget  his  former— 

"Why  not  ask  Hector?"  says  Alex. 
"Where  would  you  like  to  go,  Mister 
Sells?" 

Hector  gets  up  and  fumbles  with  his  hat. 

"Say!"  he  says.  "Let's  all  go  out  and  sec 
the  ball  game,  heh?" 


CHAPTER  IV 

DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP! 

LISTEN!  If  you  ever  wake  up  some 
mornin'  with  an  idea  for  somethin' 
new — whether  it's  a  soup,  a  vaudeville  act 
or  a  religion — and  you  expect  to  cash  on 
it,  go  to  the  nearest  hardware  store  and  ask 
the  guy  behind  the  counter  how  much  he'll 
take  for  all  the  locks  in  the  joint.  Take 
'em  at  any  price  and  fasten  'em  on  the  door 
of  the  safe  where  you  keep  the  idea — the 
same  bein'  your  mouth — and  then  throw  the 
keys  in  any  good,  deep  river! 

If  the  inventors  of  stud  poker,  movin' 
pictures,  the  alligator  pear,  pneumonia  and 
so  forth  had  gone  around  talkin'  about  them 
things  before  they  got  'em  patented  they 
never  would  of  took  in  a  nickel  on  their 
idea,  but  their  friends  would  be  draggin' 
down  the  royalties  yet!  The  minute  you 
155 


156  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

tip  another  guy  to  your  stunt  it's  yours  and 
his  both.  He  mightn't  mean  to  steal  your 
stuff,  but  he  can't  help  himself.  The  more 
he  thinks  about  it,  the  better  he  likes  it,  and 
it  ain't  long  before  he  gets  believin'  it  was 
his  idea  anyways  and  where  do  you  get  off 
by  claimin'  you  thought  of  it? 

I  admit  freely  that  you  can't  cash  on  your 
scheme  unless  you  get  it  before  the  world, 
but  the  thing  is  to  wait  till  you  got  it  cov 
ered  with  so  many  copyrights  and  patents 
that  not  even  the  James  Boys  could  steal  it 
and  then  tell  'em  all  at  once! 

If  Edgar  Simmons  had  of  did  that,  he'd 
be  a  rich  millionaire  to-day  instead  of  havin' 
to  cut  his  winnin's  with  Alex.  Edgar  had 
an  idea,  and  he  didn't  know  what  to  do 
with  it. 

Alex  did! 

The  wife  and  I  is  sittin'  down  to  the 
evenin'  meal  one  night,  when  the  telephone 
rings.  Only  one  of  us  got  up. 

"Hello!"  I  says. 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      157 

"Hello!"  is  the  answer.  "This  is  Alex. 
What  would  you  say  to  me  runnin'  up  there 
to  supper  to-night?" 

"Nothin',"  I  answers.  "I  see  where  they 
was  a  guy  got  pinched  only  last  week  for 
swearin'  over  the  phone!" 

"Look  here!"  he  says,  kinda  peeved. 
"Do  you  want  me  to  come  up  there  to-night 
or  don't  you?" 

"Don't  you!"  I  says. 

"They's  plenty  of  places  where  they 
would  be  glad  to  have  me  to  dinner,"  he 
snarls.  "Places  that  is  just  as  good  as 
yours!" 

"How  do  you  know  how  good  they  are?" 
I  says.  "You  ain't  never  tried  no  dinners 
nowheres  else  but  up  here." 

"They  ain't  no  man  can  keep  me  from 
seein'  my  cousin!"  he  says.  "Tell  Alice  I'll 
be  right  up!" 

I  hung  up  the  phone. 

"Well,"  I  says  to  the  wife,  "I  got  bad 
news  for  you." 


158  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Who  was  it?"  she  asks,  droppin'  the 
knittin'  layout  on  the  floor. 

"That  trick  relative  of  yours,"  I  tells  her. 
"He's  comin'  up  here  for  dinner  again,  so 
I  guess  I'll  go  down  to  the  corner  and  play 
a  little  pinochle." 

"You  ought  to  be  the  weather  man,"  says 
the  wife,  "you're  such  a  rotten  guesser! 
You  ain't  goin'  nowheres.  You're  gonna 
stay  here  and  help  entertain  Alex." 

"Entertain  him?"  I  says.  "What  d'ye 
think  I  am — a  trained  seal  or  somethin'?" 

"Don't  kid  yourself!"  she  says.  "You 
ain't  even  makin'  the  money  I  could  get 
with  a  trained  seal!  You  gotta  stop  this 
pinochle  thing — you  don't  see  Alex  wastin' 
his  time  playin'  pinochle  with  a  lotta 
loafers!" 

"You  bet  you  don't!"  I  comes  back. 
"You'll  never  see  Alex  playin'  no  game 
where  they's  a  chance  of  the  other  guy  win- 
nin'!  He  wouldn't  bet  zero  was  cold! 
And  don't  be  callin'  my  friends  loafers— 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!     159 

every  one  of  them  guys  is  successful  busi 
ness  men!" 

"That  mob  you  hid  out  in  here  one  night 
looked  like  a  lotta  plumbers  to  me!"  she 
says.  "Any  man  who  sits  up  half  the  night 
playin'  cards  is  a  loafer!" 

"One  of  them  loafers  I  while  away  my 
time  with  lives  in  the  next  flat,"  I  says, 
"and  the  dumbwaiter  door  is  wide  open." 

"I  don't  care,"  says  the  wife,  flushin'  all 
up.  "Let  him  hear  me!" 

"I  ain't  stoppin'  him,"  I  says.  "But  you 
don't  want  it  to  get  rumored  all  over  New 
York  that  you  and  me  is  quarrelin',  do 
you?" 

The  wife's  answer  is  nothin'.  She  walks 
over  to  the  window  and  looks  out  on  Man 
hattan,  doin'  a  soft  shoe  dance  with  one  toe 
on  the  floor.  If  bein'  good  lookin'  was 
water,  she'd  be  Niagara  Falls.  You've 
seen  her  picture  many  a  time  on  a  can  of 
massage  cream — which  she  never  touched 
in  her  life!  The  label  claims  it  was  this 


160  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

stuff  that  put  her  over,  but  she  don't  know 
whether  rouge  is  for  red  cheeks  or  measles. 
They  ain't  a  day  goes  by  without  some 
movie  company  pesterin'  her  to  sign  up,  and 
she  can  write  her  own  ticket  when  it  comes 
to  salary.  Well,  I'm  in  dutch  again,  but  I 
don't  care!  This  here  knockout  is  wed  to 
me,  and  they  ain't  nothin'  can  give  me  the 
blues! 

"Listen!"  I  says.  "Honey,  we  only  been 
wed  ten  years — and  here  we  are  scrappin' 
already!" 

She  turns  on  the  weeps  and  I'm  across 
the  floor  like  a  startled  rabbit.  We  come 
to  terms  in  about  five  minutes,  and  as  far 
as  a  disinterested  stranger  could  of  seen, 
everything  is  O.  K.  again. 

"Well,"  I  says,  finally,  "you  ain't  mad  at 
me  no  more,  heh,  honey?" 

She  wags  her  head,  no. 

"We  got  that  all  settled,  heh?"  I  says. 

Her  head  is  on  my  shoulder  and  why 
shouldn't  it  be,  and  she  says  yes. 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      161 

They  is  a  pause.     To  bust  it  up,  I  coughs.  4 

"If  that  pest  Alex  wasn't  comin'  here  to 
night,"  I  says,  "we  might  go  to  the  theatre." 

"The  movies  hurts  my  eyes!"  she  an 
swers,  givin'  me  a  sarcastical  smile. 

"D'ye  mean  to  give  the  neighbors  the 
idea  I  have  never  staked  you  to  nothin'  but 
the  movies?"  I  hollers,  gettin'  sore,  natur 
ally  enough. 

"Don't  be  callin'  my  cousin  no  pest!"  she 
says  and — well,  we're  off  again! 

In  less  than  five  minutes,  some  new 
comers  which  has  a  flat  across  the  hall, 
knocks  on  the  dumbwaiter  bell  furiously. 
I  answered. 

"Why  don't  you  people  let  go?"  inquires 
a  harsh  voice.  "We  can't  stand  that  tour 
ney  in  there  no  longer!" 

"They  ain't  no  way  of  puttin'  a  man  in 
jail  for  movin',"  I  says. 

"The  idea  of  a  man  hollerin'  at  his  wife 
like  that!"  comes  a  female  voice  in  back  of 
this  guy. 


1 62  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Shut  up — I'm  doin'  this!"  exclaims  her 
lovin'  spouse, — and  then  they  had  a  melee 
of  their  own! 

In  the  middle  of  this  our  doorbell  rings 
and  in  comes  Alex. 

"They  should  of  named  this  apartment 
house  the  Verdun,"  he  says.  "They  seems 
to  be  a  battle  goin'  on  here  every  time  I 
come  up!  I  could  hear  every  word  you 
people  was  sayin'  as  plain  as  day,  away  out 
in  the  hall!" 

"What  did  you  come  in  for  then?"  I  asks 
him.  "Especially  as  you  could  hear  this 
was  the  rush  hour!" 

He  ignores  me  and  kisses  the  wife — a 
thing  he  knows  gets  me  wild. 

"Now,  boys!"  butts  in  the  wife,  splittin' 
her  world  famous  grin  fifty-fifty,  "let's  stop 
quarrelin'.  They  ain't  a  reason  on  earth 
why  we  can't  be  friends,  even  if  we  are  rela 
tives." 

"When  are  you  gonna  have  dinner?"  asks 
Alex. 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      163 

"This  here's  eatless  night  with  us,"  I 
says.  "Not  to  give  you  a  short  answer." 

"Don't  pay  no  attention  to  him,  Alex," 
says  the  wife.  "You  know  you  can  eat  here 
whenever  you  want." 

"Sure!"  I  says.  "Don't  mind  me.  All 
I  gotta  do  is  pay  for  this  stuff — that's  all!" 

The  wife  gimme  a  bitter  glance. 

"That's  right,"  she  says.  "Tell  the 
world  that  I  have  wed  a  tightwad!" 

"What  d'ye  mean?"  I  hollers.  "I'm  as 
loose  as  ashes  with  my  money  and  they  ain't 
nobody  knows  it  better  than  you.  I  don't 
even  moan  over  the  monthly  phone  bill, 
which  from  the  last  one  you  musta  been 
callin'  up  friends  in  Australia!" 

"Here!"  butts  in  Alex.  "This  thing's 
gotta  stop!  Come  on,  kiss  and  make  up. 
The  first  thing  you  know  the  Red  Cross  will 
be  openin'  a  branch  here.  If  I  didn't  know 
how  much  you  people  loved  each  other,  I'd 
get  the  idea  that  you  was  really  angry." 

"Of  course  we  love  each  other!"  I  says. 


1 64  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"We  only  pull  this  now  and  then  so's  we 
won't  get  sickenin'  to  the  neighbors  by  bill- 
in'  and  cooin'  all  the  time!  Ain't  I  right, 
honey?" 

"Are  you  sorry?"  inquires  the  wife. 

"Sorry?"  I  says.  "Why,  I'd  go  out  and 
buy  a  tube  of  carbolic  acid  if  it  wasn't  so 
high!" 

With  that  they  was  peace. 

We're  just  sittin'  down  to  a  well-earned 
meal,  when  the  bell  rings  again.  Actin'  as 
maid  is  one  of  the  best  things  I  do  around 
my  five  rooms,  if  you  count  the  bath,  so  I 
answered  it.  They  was  a  man  and  a  woman 
standin'  there  and  my  heart  run  up  to  play 
with  my  tonsils  when  I  seen  them.  I  fig 
ured  they  was  a  couple  more  guests  for  din 
ner  and  you  knew  what  they're  askin'  for 
steak  these  days. 

"I'm  sorry  to  bother  you,"  says  the  dame, 
"but  we  are  the  people  who  live  in  the  flat 
right  under  yours." 

"If  you  think  we're  too  noisy,  moan  to 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      165 

the  landlord!"  I  says,  "I  gotta  right  to  stage 
an  argument  in  my  flat  whenever  I  so 
choose!" 

She  giggles.  The  guy  that  was  with  her 
don't  make  a  sound. 

"Why,  I'm  sure  we  never  heard  any  noise 
from  above,"  she  says.  "I  think  you  and 
your  wife  are  no  doubt  the  quietest  folks 
in  the  whole  house." 

Oh,  boy!!! 

"How  long  have  you  been  deaf?"  I  says. 

"You're  just  like  your  wife  claims,"  she 
grins.  "Full  of  life  and  fun!  But  I'm 
keepin'  you  from  your  food,  ain't  I?  I 
wanted  to  know  if  you'd  let  Mister  Sim 
mons  climb  down  your  fire  escape." 

"Feed  him  some  veronal,"  I  says,  "and 
he'll  no  doubt  be  O.  K.  in  the  mornin'. 
The  first  day  is  always  tough!" 

"Why,  what  do  you  mean?"  she  says.  "I 
merely  asked  if  my  husband  could  climb 
down  your  fire  escape." 


1 66  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

I  seen  I  had  wild  pitched  the  first  time, 
so  I  tried  my  luck  again. 

"Is  your  joint  on  fire?"  I  says. 

"Oh,  no!"  she  tells  me.  "But  we  are 
locked  out.  My  husband  invented  a  new 
kind  of  lock — he's  always  inventing  some 
thing  that  will  do  everything  but  work. 
He  put  this  lock  on  our  door  and  now  he 
can't  open  it  himself!  Isn't  that  killing?" 

"A  riot!"  I  admits.     "Come  right  in." 

The  wife  is  gettin'  nervous  at  me  bein' 
out  there  so  long,  and  when  she  heard  a  fe 
male  voice  laughin',  of  course  that  didn't 
help  matters  none.  She  meets  this  dame 
half  way  in  the  hall  and  the  minute  they 
seen  each  other  they  fall  together  in  fond 
embrace.  I  found  out  later  they'd  known 
each  other  as  long  as  a  week  and  the  last 
time  they  met  was  an  hour  before. 

Well,  we  get  introduced  all  around  and 
then  this  bird  which  invented  a  lock  that 
nobody  on  earth  could  open,  includin'  him 
self,  goes  out  on  the  fire  escape  followed 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      167 

by  his  charmin'  wife.  They  entered  their 
flat  by  the  novel  method  of  usin'  the  kitchen 
window.  This  guy  didn't  open  his  mouth 
from  the  time  he  come  in  till  he  went  out, 
and  when  spoke  to,  he  blushed  all  over  and 
acted  like  he  wished  to  Heaven  he  could 
hide  under  the  sofa.  His  wife,  though, 
had  nothin'  against  conversation  as  a  sport. 
She  was  talkin'  when  she  come  in  and  she 
went  out  the  same  way.  I  never  seen  no 
body  in  my  life  who  could  talk  as  fast  and 
frequent  as  this  dame  and  if  her  husband 
had  hung  that  trick  lock  on  her  tongue  he 
would  of  made  himself  solid  with  me! 

"That's  that  lovely  Mrs.  Simmons,"  says 
the  wife,  when  they  had  went.  "It's  too 
bad  her  husband  ain't  a  live  one." 

"Gettin'  married  has  buried  many  a  good 
man!"  I  says. 

"It  didn't  change  you  none,"  she  says. 
"You  was  a  dead  one  when  I  got  you!" 

"Here!"  butts  in  Alex.  "Don't  you  peo 
ple  get  started  again!  I  wanna  finish  my 


1 68  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

supper  in  peace.  What's  wrong  with 
Mister  Simmons?" 

"He  ain't  got  no  pep,"  says  the  wife. 
"They's  many  a  more  ambitious  man  than 
he  is  with  a  tomb  around  him !  He's  been 
keepin'  books  for  twenty  dollars  a  week 
since  the  discovery  of  arithmetic,  and  he 
ain't  got  a  raise  since  they  blowed  up  the 
Maine.  He's  afraid  to  ask  for  more  money 
for  fear  the  boss  will  find  out  he's  on  the 
pay  roll  and  fire  him.  They's  one  ounce 
more  brains  in  a  billiard  ball  than  they  is  in 
his  head.  He—" 

"Wait!"  interrupts  Alex.  "This  here 
sounds  interestin'  to  me.  In  the  first  place, 
they  ain't  a  doubt  in  my  mind  but  what 
you  got  that  feller  figured  all  wrong!  Like 
all  the  rest  of  you  simple  minded  and  inno 
cent  New  Yorkers,  you  get  brains  and 
imagination  mixed.  They  is  a  big  differ 
ence!  Brains  is  what  puts  a  man  over,  and 
imagination  is  what  keeps  him  back.  The 
ideal  combination  is  all  brains  and  no 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      169 

imagination!  The  feller  with  brains  sets 
his  mind  on  what  he  wants,  forgets 
everything  else,  goes  to  it  and  gets  it. 
He  don't  for  a  minute  consider  what  might 
happen  if  he  fails,  or  that  the  thing  he 
proposes  has  never  been  done  before,  or 
that  maybe  his  scheme  ain't  really  as  good 
as  he  first  thought  it  was.  Why  don't 
he  think  of  them  things?  Because  he 
ain't  got  no  imagination!  The  imaginative 
feller  is  beat  from  the  start.  He  keeps 
thinkin'  from  every  possible  angle,  what 
might  happen  to  him  if 'he  fails  and,  by  the 
time  he  gets  that  all  figured  out,  his  idea 
is  cold  and  his  enthusiasm  for  it  has 
drowned  in  the  sea  of  possibilities  his  roam- 
in'  mind  has  created!  The  feller  which 
said,  'Look  before  you  leap!'  might  of  been 
clever,  but  I  bet  he  thought  a  five-dollar 
bill  was  as  big  as  they  made  'em  till  he  went 
to  his  grave!  If  I'd  had  imagination,  I'd 
never  of  come  to  New  York  and  made  good. 
I'd  of  been  afraid  the  town  was  too  big  for 


170  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

me.  Now  this  feller  Simmons,  I'll  betcha, 
is  simply  sufferin'  from  a  case  of  too  much 
imagination.  He  must  have  somethin'  in 
his  head  or  he  couldn't  even  keep  books. 
It  takes  brains  to  balance  accounts,  the  same 
as  it  takes  money  to  pay  'em.  Am  I 
right?" 

"What  d'ye  say,  if  we  go  to  the  movies?" 
I  says. 

Alex  gets  up  in  disgust. 

"Is  that  all  the  interest  I'm  gettin'  here?" 
he  asks. 

"This  ain't  no  bank!"  I  tells  him. 

"Be  still!"  says  the  wife.  "I  heard  every 
word  you  said,  Alex  dear.  I  think  you're 
horribly  interestin'.  But  I  still  claim  Sim 
mons  is  a  fat-head  whose  butcher  bill  gives 
him  trouble  every  month!  He  never  takes 
that  poor  wife  of  his  nowheres,  but  a  walk 
past  the  Fifth  Avenue  Library,  and  she 
don't  know  if  they  have  dancin'  or  swimmin' 
in  cabarets.  He's  always  drawin'  things  on 
pieces  of  paper,  and  he  sits  up  half  the 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      171 

night  inventin'  what-nots  that  would  be  all 
right,  if  they  wasn't  useless." 

"Yes,"  says  Alex,  "and  some  day  he'll  hit 
on  somethin'  that'll  prob'ly  make  him  fa 
mous!" 

"I  wanna  see  Beryldine  Nearer  in  'The 
Vaccinated  Vampire',"  I  says,  reachin'  for 
my  hat.  "I  seen  her  last  week  in  'Almost 
A  Fiend'  and  she  was  a  knockout!" 

"Shut  up!"  says  the  wife.  "What  was 
you  sayin',  again,  Alex?" 

"I  says  it's  the  dreamer  which  has  made 
the  world  what  it  is  to-day,"  he  goes  on, 
strikin'  a  pose.  "He  thinks  of  somethin' 
and  the  practical  feller  comes  along  and 
makes  money  out  of  it.  Take— 

"They  ain't  no  man  can  keep  me  from 
the  movies!"  I  butts  in.  "I  ain't  gonna  be 
late  and  only  see  half  of  this  picture.  I 
done  that  too  often!  You  and  Alice  can 
fight  it  out  amongst  yourselves  if— 

"All  right!"  says  the  wife.  "Come  on, 
we'll  all  go.  I  admit  freely  I'm  crazy  to 


172  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

see  Beryldine  Nearer  again,  myself.  I  seen 
a  gown  on  her  in  the  last  picture  which  I 
think  I  can  duplicate  in  time  for  Mrs.  Mar 
tin's  card  party.  We'll  ask  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Simmons  to  go  with  us  too.  The  poor 
dear,  it'll  be  a  t-reat  for  her." 

"It'll  be  a  treat  for  her  husband,  too!" 
I  says.  "I  ain't  gonna  take  the  whole 
neighborhood  to  the  movies.  You  must 
think  I'm  the  Liberty  Loan,  don't  you?" 

The  wife  comes  over  and  kisses  me. 

"Now,  dear,"  she  says.  "Don't  be  so 
close  across  the  chest.  Won't  you  take  'em 
for  me?" 

Well,  when  all  Broadway  used  to  roll 
over  and  play  dead  when  she  pulled  that 
smile,  what  chance  have  /  got? 

"I'd  take  carbolic  for  you!"  I  answers, 
givin'  her  a  squeeze.  "Go  ahead,  honey, 
invite  the  first  two  pagefuls  outa  the  phone 
book  if  you  want  and  I'll  take  'em  all !" 

"There  you  go,"  she  says.  "No  wonder 
we're  not  wealthy!  If  it  wasn't  for  me 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      173 

holdin'  you  down,  we  wouldn't  have  a 
nickel.  I'll  call  down  and  tell  Mrs.  Sim 
mons  to  get  ready — they  may  have  an  en 
gagement  themselves!" 

"I  doubt  if  I'm  lucky  enough  for  that  to 
happen!"  I  says. 

Well,  I  missed  out  again.  They  come  up 
all  right,  and  Mrs.  Simmons  is  tickled  to 
death.  When  set  for  the  street,  she  was  a 
pretty  good  looker  herself,  but  Simmons 
ain't  even  got  a  hat  with  him. 

"Mister  Simmons  prefers  to  stay  at 
home,"  says  his  wife,  causin'  my  heart  to 
leap  with  joy.  "He  has  some  important 
work  to  do,  haven't  you,  dear?" 

Simmons  flushes  all  up. 

"Why — eh — yes — quite  so — much  obliged 
—excuse  me,"  he  stutters,  backin'  away  like 
he  thought  I'd  wallop  him  for  not  goin'. 

Alex  is  lookin'  at  him  strangely. 

"Pardon  me,"  he  says.  "We  just  been 
talkin'  over  some  of  the  wonderful  ideas 
you  been  workin'  on.  I  have  a  inventive 


174  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

twist  in  my  brains  myself  and  that  lock  you 
put  together  interests  me  very  much. 
Could  I  see  it?" 

Simmons  brightens  up  in  a  flash  and  com 
mences  to  grin. 

"I'd  be  very  glad  indeed  to  show  it  to 
you,"  he  says.  "Very  glad!  It's  a— 

Alex  goes  over  and  puts  his  arm  on  his 
shoulder. 

"You  folks  run  along  to  the  movies,"  he 
tells  us.  "Mr.  Simmons  and  me  is  got  a 
little  conference  on — eh,  Simmons?"  He 
prods  him  in  the  ribs  and  giggles. 

Simmons  wags  his  head.  A  guy  with 
two  glass  eyes  could  see  he  was  tickled  silly. 

I  dragged  the  rest  of  'em  out. 

Well,  we  come  in  from  the  movie  around 
eleven  o'clock  and  stopped  in  the  Simmons 
flat.  They  had  dragged  me  into  a  delica 
tessen  parlor  on  the  way  back  and  put  the 
bee  on  me  for  a  cold  lunch.  We  was  to  eat 
it  in  Mrs.  Simmons's  flat.  All  she  furn 
ished  was  the  idea.  Alex  and  Simmons  is 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      175 

sittin'  in  the  dinin'  room  and  they're  so  in 
terested  in  each  other  they  don't  even  look 
up  when  we  come  in.  The  table  is  full  of 
drawin's  and  blue  prints  and  scraps  of  paper 
all  covered  over  with  figures.  Simmons  is 
pointin'  out  somethin'  to  Alex  on  a  piece  of 
paper,  and  I'll  lay  the  world  four  to  one 
Alex  ain't  got  the  slightest  idea  what  the 
other  guy's  talkin'  about,  but  he's  listenin' 
like  he's  hearin'  the  secret  of  makin'  gold 
outa  mud. 

"I'll  bet  you  have  gone  to  work  and  bored 
Mister  Hanley  half  to  death!"  says  his  wife. 
"How  often  have  I  told  you  that  strangers 
is  not  interested  in  them  fool  ideas  of 
yours?" 

"Not  at  all!"  says  Alex.  "I  fail  to  recall 
when  I  spent  such  a  enjoyable  night. 
Mister  Simmons  is  a  genius,  if  they  ever 
was  one,  and  I  predict  a  great  future  for 
his  automatic  cocktail  shaker.  Then,  if  he 
gets  his  keyless  lock  workin'  right,  why— 

"Let's  eat  in  the  kitchen,  it's  cosier,"  in- 


176  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

terrupts  Mrs.  Simmons.  "Do  you  folks 
mind?" 

They  was  no  bloodshed  over  it,  and  we  all 
went  in.'  Simmons  claims  he  would  like  to 
change  his  collar,  and  invites  me  back  to 
look  over  the  flat,  a  treat  the  wife  has  al 
ready  had.  Once  we  get  in  his  boudoir,  he 
finds  they  is  everything  in  the  world  in  it 
with  the  exception  of  a  clean  collar,  and  he 
calls  Mrs.  Simmons  to  the  rescue. 

"Here!"  she  says,  handin'  him  the  laun 
dry.  "Hurry  up,  so's  we  can  eat.  He's  al 
ways  losin'  somethin'!"  she  remarks. 

I  got  a  comical  atfswer  on  the  tip  of  my 
tongue,  when  Simmons  drops  his  collar  but 
ton  on  the  floor,  and,  the  same  as  all  the 
other  collar  buttons  in  the  world,  they 
picked  out  the  furtherest  corners  of  the 
room  to  roll  into.  The  poor  boob  gets  as 
red  as  a  four-alarm  fire  and  goes  crawlin' 
around  the  room  tryin'  to  run  them  collar 
buttons  down. 

"It's  too  bad  them  buttons  wasn't  made  of 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!     177 

rubber,"  I  says,  thinkin'  to  pass  the  thing 
off.  "They  would  of  bounced  right  back  in 
your  hand,  hey?" 

He  straightens  up  like  he  had  stepped 
on  a  egg  and  runs  his  hands  through  his 
hair. 

"A  rubber  -collar  button!"  he  mutters. 
"A  rubber  collar  button!  No — no — not 
rubber,  but— 

"My  Gawd!"  cuts  in  Mrs.  Simmons. 
"Will  he  ever  stop  it?  Sit  down  and  eat, 
folks,  he's  ravin'  again!  Here,  Edgar,  try 
some  of  this  cold  ham.  It  set  our  friends 
back  a  dollar  and  it  ought  to  be  good!" 

"I'm — I'm  sorry!"  pipes  Edgar,  movin' 
away  with  that  little,  nervous  step  of  his. 
"I  couldn't  eat  a  thing.  I  got  a  headache,  I 
guess — I — excuse  me,  but  I'll  see  you  all 
again." 

With  that  he  blows. 

"Ain't  he  the  limit?"  inquires  Mrs.  Sim 
mons,  grabbin'  the  choicest  bits  of  that  ham 
and  goin'  south  with  it. 


178  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Mine's  worse!"  remarks  the  wife. 
"What  would  them  men  ever  do  without 
us?" 

"Save  money!"  I  says.  "Slip  me  some 
of  that  cold  chicken,  will  you? — I  got  a 
stomach,  too!" 

Well,  we  didn't  see  Edgar  Simmons  no 
more  that  night.  In  fact  it  was  all  of  two 
weeks  before  he  appeared  again,  and  then 
it  was  by  way  of  the  phone.  He  asked  me  if 
I  would  tell  my  Cousin  Alex  to  come  down 
at  once,  he  had  somethin'  very  important 
to  tell  him.  I  waited  till  supper  had  come 
and  gone  that  night,  and  then  I  got  hold  of 
Alex.  The  wife  and  Mrs.  Simmons  went 
to  the  theatre  together  and  I  arranged  the 
conference  for  my  flat.  The  minute  Alex 
arrived  I  phoned  Simmons  and  he  come 
right  up.  He's  all  excited  over  somethin' 
and  he's  got  a  parcel  under  his  arm. 

"I  have  followed  your  advice,"  he  tells 
Alex,  "and  at  last  I've  invented  something 
practical.  There's  millions  in  it!" 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!     179 

"What?"  I  says.     'The  mint?" 

Alex  kicks  me  in  the  shins  under  the  table 
so  hard  that  I  moaned  aloud. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asks. 

Simmons  unwraps  the  parcel  and  pulls 
out  a  piece  of  cloth.  It's  the  neckband  of 
a  shirt  and  the  same  as  the  ordinary  neck 
band  in  every  way — except  it's  got  collar 
buttons  built  right  into  it! 

"What's  the  idea?"  I  asks. 

"Heavens,  man,  can't  you  grasp  it?"  says 
Simmons,  slammin'  the  table  with  his  fist. 
"Here  we  have  the  only  collar  button  in  the 
world  that  can't  be  lost!  .You  never  have 
to  look  for  it,  because  it's  always  attached 
to  the  shirt.  You  can't  lose  the  button  un 
less  you  lo*se  the  s'hirt!  It's  made  right  with 
it!  It—" 

"Wait!"  butts  in  Alex,  leapin'  to  his  feet. 
"Simmons — you  have  got  somethin'!  Is  it 
patented?" 

"Yes,"  says  Simmons. 


i8o  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Have  you  felt  out  the  shirt  people  on 
it?"  asks  Alex  next. 

"That's  what  I  wanted -to  see  you  about," 
says  Simmons.  "I  can't  get  them  to  look  at 
it!  I  get  shifted  from  one  subordinate  to 
another  and  they  seem  to  think  I'm  some 
sort  of  a  crank.  If  I  could  only  get  it  be 
fore  Philip  Calder,  the  president  of  the 
Brown-Calder  Shirt  Company,  I'd  be 
made!" 

"Hmm !"  grunts  Alex.  "Well,  what  d'ye 
want  me  to  do?" 

Simmons  coughs  and  fidgets  with  the 
button. 

"It  struck  me  when  you  was  talkin'  to 
me  the  other  night,"  he  says,  "that  if  there 
was  one  man  in  New  York  who  could  see 
Calder  and  make  him  realize  the  merits  of 
my  invention,  you  were  that  man!  Will 
you  try  it?" 

"I'll  do  it!"  answers  Alex.  "Gimme  the 
model  and  you'll  hear  from  me  in  a  few 
days.  Do  you  wish  to  sell  the  neckbands 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      181 

themselves,  or  just  the  patent  on  your  idea?" 

"I  don't  care  who  makes  the  neckbands," 
says  Simmons,  "as  long  as  I  get  paid  for  my 
invention!  Of  course,  I  don't  expect  you  to 
help  me  for  nothing,  either." 

"Ha!  ha!"  I  butts  in.  "That  bird 
wouldn't  tell  you  the  time  for  nothin'. 
You'll  be  lucky  if  you  ever  even  see  that 
invention  any  more!" 

"Don't  mind  my  cousin,"  Alex  tells  him. 
"Outside  of  a  tendency  to  the  measles,  he's 
the  worst  thing  we  got  in  our  family! 
We'll  take  up  the  financial  end  of  this  later." 

Bright  and  early  the  next  mornin',  or 
eleven  o'clock  to  be  exact,  Alex  invites  me 
to  go  with  him  so's  I  can  watch  how  he 
would  go  about  seein'  the  president  of  the 
Brown-Calder  Company  and  sellin'  him  the 
Simmons  patent  collar  button.  As  they  is 
always  a  chance  that  Alex  will  fall  down,  I 
went  along.  We  had  no  trouble  at  all 
landin'  outside  the  president's  office,  but 
once  we  got  there  it  was  different. 


1 82  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Is  Mister  Calder  in?"  says  Alex  to  a 
blond  stenographer,  which  looks  like  them 
movie  queens  would  like  to. 

She  puts  four  stray  hairs  back  of  her  left 
ear  and  arises. 

"Have  you  got  an  appointment?"  she  in 
quires. 

"No,"  grins  Alex,  "my  nose  got  that  way 
from  bein'  hit  with  a  baseball." 

She  had  lovely  teeth  and  showed  'em  to 
us. 

"Cards?"  she  says  next,  lookin'  from  one 
of  us  to  the  other. 

"I'll  play  these!"  says  Alex.  "Listen! 
I  wanna  go  in  Mister  Calder's  office  with 
out  bein'  announced.  I  ain't  seen  him  for 
years  and  he'll  be  tickled  silly  when  we 
meet.  I  wanna  sneak  in  and  just  be  there 
the  first  time  he  looks  around.  I'm  a  sur 
prise — see?" 

She  looks  kinda  doubtful. 

"W-e-11,  I  don't  know,"  she  says.  "I've 
only  been  here  since  yesterday,  but  my  or- 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!     183 

ders  is  to  let  nobody  past  this  gate  without 
first  findin'  out  their  business  and  so  forth. 
Still  and  all,  I  don't  wanna  be  harsh  with 
none  of  the  boss's  old  college  chums  or 
nothin'  like  that.  If  you  can  guarantee  I 
won't  lose  my  job,  I'll  let  you  get  away  with 
it." 

"If  you  lose  your  job,"  says  Alex,  openin' 
the  gate  and  pullin'  me  in  after  him,  "I'll 
hire  you  for  five  dollars  more  than  you're 
gettin'  here.  All  right?" 

"I  only  trust  you're  man  enough  to  keep 
your  word,"  she  says.  "The  boss's  office 
is  the  first  one  to  the  left." 

"Thanks,"  says  Alex.  "Them  eyes  of 
yours  is  alone  worth  the  trip!" 

This  guy  Calder's  door  is  open  and  he's 
sittin'  at  a  big  desk  writin'  away  on  some- 
thin'  like  everything  depended  on  speed. 
He's  a  great,  big  fat  bird,  with  one  of  them 
trick  Chaplin  mustaches  and  he's  smokin' 
a  cigar  as  big  as  he  is.  His  head  is  playin' 
it's  hairless  day.  All  in  all,  he  looked  like 


1 84  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

big  business,  and  my  knees  is  knockin'  to 
gether  till  I'm  afraid  he'll  hear  'em  and 
turn  around.  Alex  gumshoes  up  to  the 
desk  and  without  sayin'  a  word,  he  lays  the 
neckband  right  down  beside  Calder,  who 
immediately  swings  around  with  a  snort 

"What's  all  this — how  did  you  get  in 
here?"  he  bellers. 

"We  took  the  subway  down  from  Ninety- 
sixth  Street,"  says  Alex.  "That  thing  you 
got  in  your  hand  is  the  neckband  of  a  shirt." 

"Well?"  growls  Calder,  tappin'  the  desk 
with  a  lead  pencil. 

"It  contains  two  collar  buttons — one  front 
and  one  back,"  says  Alex.  "As  you  may 
have  noticed,  they  are  built  right  into  the 
cloth  and  are  meant  to  come  attached  to  the 
shirt.  This  does  away  forever  with  the 
necessity  of  buying  a  collar  button.  It  can 
not  be  broken,  lost  or  mislaid.  Any  shirt 
manufacturer  making  shirts  with  this  neck 
band  attached  will  naturally  have  the  bulge 
on  his  rivals.  I  can  turn  out  the  neckband 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      185 

for  practically  nothing.     I  hold  the  patent." 

Calder  sneers. 

"Hal"  he  says.  "There's  a  million 
cranks  come  in  my  office  every  day.  I  sup 
pose  you  want  to  sell  me  this,  eh?" 

"No,  sir!"  says  Alex,  with  a  pleasant 
grin. 

I  liked  to  fell  through  the  floor  at  that! 

"No,  sir?"  repeats  Calder,  droppin'  the 
pencil. 

"No,  sir!"  answers  Alex. 

"Well,  what  the — what  do  you  want 
then?"  roars  Calder.  "Come  now,  speak 
up.  I'll  give  you  five  minutes,  that's  all!" 

"That's  three  minutes  more  than  /  got 
to  spare!"  chirps  Alex,  pullin'  over  a  chair. 
"I  don't  want  you  to  buy  this  neckband, 
Mister  Calder.  What  I  want  is  this — I 
know  that  you  are  the  greatest  authority  on 
shirts  and  everything  connected  with  the 
business,  in  the  United  States  if  not  in  the 
world!  I  think  I  have  a  big  thing  here,  a 
thing  that  will  revolutionize  one  end  of  that 


1 86  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

business.  I  say  I  think  so,  because  I  don't 
know.  Now — the  concern  I  represent 
wants  your  opinion  of  it.  We're  willing  to 
pay  to  have  you,  the  world's  greatest  author 
ity,  go  on  record  as  to  the  merits  of  this  in 
vention.  If  you  say  it's  no  good,  I'll  throw 
it  away  and  forget  about  it;  if  you  say  it's 
good,  I'll  have  no  trouble  placing  it  any 
where  in  the  world!" 

Well,  say!  That  old  guy  brightens  all 
up  when  Alex  calls  him  the  champion  shirt- 
maker  of  the  world,  and  pickin'  up  the 
band,  he  turns  it  over  in  his  hands  a  few 
times.  You  could  see  that  the  old  salve 
Alex  handed  him  had  gone  big! 

"Hmph!"  he  says,  finally.  "How  much 
would  these  things  cost  me?" 

"Roughly  speakin',  about  three  cents 
each,"  says  Alex. 

"How  long  will  they  stand  up  under 
laundering?"  is  the  next  question  Calder 
fires  at  him. 

"They're  the  only  thing  that  won't  come 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      187 

out  in  the  wash!"  answers  Alex,  without 
battin'  an  eye. 

The  old  guy  smiles  and  presses  a  button. 
In  comes  a  clerk. 

"Send  in  Mister  Lacy,  no  matter  what 
he's  doing,  at  once!"  barks  Calder.  He 
turns  to  Alex  as  the  clerk  flees  from  the 
room.  "Have  you  been  anywhere  else  with 
this?"  he  asks. 

Alex  looks  pained. 

"Why,  Mister  Calder!"  he  says,  "cer 
tainly  not!  Before  I  went  any  further  I 
wanted  the  opinion  of  the  greatest— 

This  Lacy  guy  comes  in. 

"Mister  Lacy  is  superintendent  of  our 
manufacturing  department,"  says  Calder. 
"I'm  going  to  talk  with  him  for  three  min 
utes  about  the  effect  of  the  war  on  the  onion 
crop  in  Beloochistan.  I'll  send  for  you  at 
the  expiration  of  that  time.  Ah — you  can 
leave  the — ah— neckband  here!" 

"Pardon  me!"  says  Alex,  "I  have  got  to 
be  up  at  the  office  of  the  Evers-Raine  Shirt 


i88  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

Company  at  three  and  I  can  just  about  make 
it." 

"What  the  devil  are  you  going  to  another 
shirt  company  for?"  roars  Calder. 

"I  have  an  old  friend  in  the — ah — manu 
facturing  department,"  says  Alex,  lookin' 
straight  at  him,  "who  I'm  very  anxious  to 
see." 

Well,  they  stare  at  each  other  for  a  min 
ute  without  sayin'  a  word.  They're  both 
playin'  poker,  and  it's  Calder  who  lays  his 
down  first! 

"Look  here!"  he  grunts.  "I'm  going  to 
take  an  option  on  this  infernal  thing  for 
a  week.  How  much  is  that  worth  to  you?" 

"Ten  thousand  dollars,"  answers  Alex, 
pleasantly. 

"I'll  pay  seven  and  give  you  a  check  right 
now!"  says  Calder,  slammin'  the  desk  with 
his  fist.  "Here,  Lacy!"  he  says  to  the  other 
guy.  "This  is  what  we'll  put  on  our  shirts 
hereafter,  unless  I'm  very  much  mistaken ! 
What  do  you  think  of  it?" 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      189 

Lacy  picks  up  the  neckband  and  looks 
at  it. 

"And  to  think,"  he  mutters  in  an  awed 
voice.  "And  to  think  nobody  ever  thought 
of  this  before!" 

"Hmm!"  says  Calder,  takin'  the  band 
back.  "That's  all  settled  then!  Young 
man,"  he  says  to  Alex,  "the  cashier  will  give 
you  a  check.  Come  back  at  the  end  of  the 
week  and  I'll  either  give  you  back  your 
neckband,  or  a  contract  for  five  hundred 
thousand  of  them  a  year  for  twenty  years!" 

"Thanks!"  says  Alex.  "Will  you  have 
that  check  certified?" 

Well,  Simmons  like  to  went  insane  with 
joy  when  we  sprung  the  news  on  him  and 
Alex  insists  on  him  takin'  that  seven  thou 
sand  dollar  check  whole.  He  didn't  ask 
for  a  nickel,  which  had  me  puzzled.  Mrs. 
Simmons  goes  out  shoppin'  for  furs,  dia 
monds  and  automobiles,  and  the  wife  asks 
me  why  /  don't  invent  something  but  out 
side  of  that  they  was  nothin'  more  doin'  till 


190  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

the  end  of  the  week.  Then,  Alex  comes 
up  and  breaks  the  news  to  Simmons  that  the 
Brown-Calder  Shirt  Company  will  take  all 
the  neckbands  that  Simmons  can  supply,  as 
long  as  people  wear  shirts. 

"We  have  got  to  deliver  50,000  in  a 
month,"  says  Alex,  "at  the  rate  of  two  and 
a  half  cents  apiece.  Can  you  do  it?" 

Simmons  falls  back  on  the  sofa  in  a  dead 
faint! 

Well,  they  was  great  excitement  and  the 
wife  finally  brings  him  to  life  with  smellin' 
salts. 

"It  was  prob'ly  the  sudden  mention  of 
so  much  money,  eh?"  I  says. 

"I'm  ruined!"  hollers  Simmons,  leapin' 
up  and  dancin'  around.  "Why,  it  took  me 
two  weeks  to  make  that  one  miserable  model 
I  gave  you!"  he  yells  at  Alex.  "I  couldn't 
make  fifty  thousand  of  them  things  in  a  life 
time!" 

Alex's  eyes  glitters. 

"Here!"  he  says,  slappin'   Simmons  on 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      191 

the  back.  "Pull  yourself  together,  man! 
You've  got  to  think  of  somethin'.  How  did 
you  make  that  one?" 

"By  hand!"  wails  Simmons. 

"Well,  they  must  be  some  way  of  makin' 
a  machine  that  can  turn  out  so  many  thou 
sand  an  hour!"  says  Alex,  walkin'  back  and 
forth.  "Why—" 

"I  don't  care  who  makes  'em!"  says  Sim 
mons.  "All  I  want  is  to  get  paid  for  my 
idea.  I—" 

"Listen  to  me!"  interrupts  Alex,  shakin' 
him.  "Can't  you  invent  some  kind  of  a 
machine  for  turnin'  them  neckbands  out?" 

"Oh,  I  had  a  little  something  figured  out 
the  other  night,"  says  Simmons,  "but  what's 
the  use  of  me  botherin'  with  that?  Why,  a 
machine  of  that  kind  would  cost  at  least 
twenty  thousand  dollars  to  make!  Where 
can  I  get  that  much  money?" 

"Look  here!"  Alex  tells  him.  "You  got 
seven  and  I'll  loan  you  the  balance.  You 
get  busy  on  that  machine  right  away — 


i92  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

there's  no  time  to  lose!"  He  grabs  his  hat. 
"Come  with  me  and  I'll  get  you  the  money 
and  then  we'll  go  to  my  lawyer  and  draw 
up  a — that  is,  I'll  take  your  receipt." 

That's  the  last  I  seen  of  either  of  them 
for  a  month.  At  the  end  of  that  time,  the 
wife  tells  me  one  day  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Simmons  is  givin'  a  big  dinner  that  night 
and  that  Alex  will  be  there.  They'll  never 
notice  us  no  more,  if  we  don't  come.  Be 
sides,  they're  goin'  for  a  trip  around  the 
country  in  a  few  days  and  this  here's  a  fare 
well  party. 

Well,  it's  a  soup  and  fish  affair,  and 
naturally  it  takes  the  wife  half  the  night  to 
get  dressed  up  for  it.  Fin'ly,  however,  she's 
dressed  to  thrill  and  we  blowed  in.  The 
minute  we  did,  Simmons  pulls  me  over  in 
a  corner  where  Alex  is  sittin',  smilin'  like 
his  name  was  George  Q.  Goodhumor. 

"Well,  sir!"  says  Simmons,  no  longer  shy 
and  retirin',  "I  just  about  cleaned  up.  My 
machine  is  turnin'  out  three  thousand  bands 


DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  TIP!      193 

an  hour,  and  I  get  a  cent  for  each  and  every 
one!" 

"You  fin'ly  doped  out  a  machine  then, 
heh?"  I  says. 

"Oh,  yes!"  he  tells  me.  "But  unfortun 
ately  I  don't  control  it.  I  have  to  pay  the 
owner  for  each  band  turned  out,  although 
it's  my  invention.  But  I'm  satisfied!  I 
got  a  bonus  of  twenty-five  thousand  dollars 
from  the  Brown-Calder  people  for  selling 
them  the  exclusive  rights  to  use  the  neck 
band,  and  then  we  have  the  foreign  rights 
to—" 

"Wait!"  I  cuts  in,  turnin'  to  Alex.  All 
this  big  money  talk  was  makin'  me  dizzy. 
"Where  do  you  get  off?"  I  asks  him. 

"Well,  I  put  the  neckband  over,  didn't 
I?"  he  says. 

"Yes,"  I  admits,  "but  Simmons  invented 
it  and  he  gets  the  royalty.  How  much  cash 
did  he  give  you?" 

"Nothing!"  grins  Alex. 

I  looked  at  Simmons. 


194  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Perfectly  correct!"  he  says,  outgrinnin' 
Alex. 

"You— did  all  that  for  nothin't"  I  hol 
lers,  not  believin'  my  ears. 

"Well,  rfardly  that,"  says  Alex,  lightin' 
a  -half-dollar  cigar.  "You  see  I  loaned 
Mister  Simmons  thirteen  thousand  dollars, 
if  you  remember,  so  that  he  could  make 
his  machine." 

"Yeh,  yeh!"  I  says,  gettin'  impatient. 
"And—" 

"Well,  as  it  stands  now,"  says  Alex, 
"every  time  the  machine  turns  out  a  neck 
band,  he  gets  a  cent  out  of  the  two  and  a  half 
cents  profit." 

"Sure— he  told  me  that!"  I  says.  "But 
where  do  you  get  off?" 

Alex  grins  some  more. 

"I  own  the  machine!"  he  says.  "Have 
a  cigar,  cousin?" 


CHAPTER  V 

YOU  CAN  DO  IT! 

A  GUY  once  said,  "Be  sure  you're  right, 
then  go  ahead!"  and  like  the  bird 
which  invented  the  sayin',  "What  are  you 
gonna  have?"  he  became  famous  on  that  one 
line.  They's  millions  of  people  have  re 
peated  both  of  them  remarks  since.  As  far 
as  the  last  one  is  concerned,  it's  about  died 
out  now  and  cracked  ice  has  started  gettin' 
acquainted  with  lemonade  and  the  like  in 
stead  of  its  old  haunts,  Scotch,  Rye  and  Gin, 
which  has  pulled  a  Rip  Van  Winkle.  I 
never  told  no  man  I  was  a  fortune  teller,  but 
if  I  was  a  bartender  right  now,  believe  me, 
I'd  spend  my  nights  off  studyin'  the  art  of 
makin'  chocolate  nut  sundaes  and  pineapple 
ice  cream  sodas,  because  the  time  has  come 
with  alarmin'  suddenness  when  alcohol  will 

195 


196  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

be  used  only  for  rubbin'  baby's  head  when 
he  falls  off  of  the  table  and  the  like. 

However,  that  ain't  neither  here  or  there, 
as  the  guy  says  which  mislaid  his  watch,  so 
let's  get  back  to  the  bird  which  said,  "Be 
sure  you're  right,  then  go  ahead!"  That 
may  be  a  good  line,  but  it's  poor  dope  for 
the  young.  I'll  tell  the  world  fair  that  no 
winner  ever  got  paid  off  by  stickin'  strictly 
to  that.  If  Columbus  had  waited  till  some 
body  sent  him  a  souvenir  postal  from  the 
Bronx,  so's  he'd  be  sure  they  really  was  some 
choice  real  estate  over  here,  he  never  would 
of  discovered  America.  Napoleon  would 
never  of  got  further  than  bein'  a  buck  pri 
vate  in  the  army  if  he'd  of  played  safe  instead 
of  goin'  ahead  on  the  "I  Should  Worry!" 
plan.  I  could  name  a  million  more  guys 
which  got  over  along  the  same  lines  only  I 
hate  to  walk  to  the  library.  But  pick  up 
any  newspaper  and  the  front  page  will  give 
you  the  answer.  The  guys  that  go  over  the 
top  in  this  well  known  universe  are  the  boys 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  197 

which  goes  ahead  first  and  figures  what 
chances  they  got  afterwards.  They  let  the 
results  they  get  tell  whether  they're  right 
or  not.  I  don't  mean  a  guy  should  bust  the 
traffic  laws  of  any  of  the  prominent  virtues 
in  order  to  be  a  success,  they  ain't  a  game  on 
earth  that  can't  be  played  on  the  level  and 
won  clean,  but  instead  of  askin'  yourself, 
"Can  I  do  it?"  say,  "This  will  be  soft  for 
me!"  and  you're  a  odds  on  favorite  to  win! 

Me  and  the  wife  is  sittin'  down  to  break 
fast  one  mornin',  and  I  have  barely  had  time 
to  find  fault  with  the  eggs  when  they's  a  ring 
at  the  bell. 

"See  who  that  is,  will  you,  dear?"  says  the 
wife,  turnin'  a  page  of  the  Mornin'  Shrap 
nel  and  shootin'  the  smile  that  used  to  jam 
the  Winter  Garden  in  my  direction.  "You 
know  how  tired  I  am  in  the  mornings." 

"Yeh,"  I  says,  very  sarcastical.  "Eatin' 
grape  fruit  is  enough  to  wear  down  the 
strongest.  Since  how  long  have  I  became 
the  maid  around  here?" 


198  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Before  we  were  married,"  she  says,  sink- 
in'  the  last  of  the  cream  in  her  coffee — a 
thing  she  knows  full  well  practically  always 
enrages  me.  "Before  we  was  wed,  you 
claimed  you'd  do  anything  for  me." 

"A  man  can  kid,  can't  he?"  I  says. 

"Don't  get  catty,  dear,"  says  the  wife, 
still  featurin'  that  million  dollar  smile. 
"Hurry,  there  goes  the  bell  again.  You 
really  should  put  on  your  collar  and  tie  be 
fore  answering  the  door,  too." 

"Who  d'ye  think  is  payin'  us  a  call — Wil 
son?"  I  says.  "I  ain't  supposed  to  wear  a 
dress  suit  in  to  breakfast,  am  I?" 

They  is  no  answer  from  the  trenches 
across  the  table,  outside  of  the  munchin'  of 
food,  and  as  our  door  bell  is  makin'  the  tele 
phone  green  with  envy  from  the  way  it  was 
ringin',  I  went  out  and  opened  the  portals 
to  our  flat. 

In  comes  Alex  the  Great,  undisputed 
champion  pest  of  the  world. 

He  throws  his  hat  on  the  sofa,  kisses  the 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  199 

wife,  pulls  a  chair  up  to  the  table  and 
reaches  over  for  the  paper.  Every  one  of 
them  things  is  sure  fire  for  gettin'  my  goat! 

"No  wonder  you  people  never  get  no- 
wheresl"  he  remarks.  "Sleepin'  away  half 
the  day.  Here  it  is  eleven  o'clock  and  you 
just  havin'  breakfast!  I  was  up  at  six,  had 
a  ice  cold  bath  and  walked  ten  miles." 

"I  wish  you  had  of  made  it  eleven!"  I 
says. 

"Why?"  he  asks  me. 

"Because,"  I  says,  "that  would  of  brung 
you  a  even  two  blocks  past  our  house  and 
I  could  of  had  my  breakfast  in  peace." 

"How  often  have  I  told  you  that  I  don't 
come  here  to  see  you?"  he  snarls.  "If  it 
wasn't  for  Cousin  Alice,  I'd  never  come 
near  your  flat!" 

"You  stayed  away  a  month  once,"  I  says, 
"and  she  managed  to  keep  out  of  the  hos 
pitals." 

"Oh,  hush!"  says  the  wife.  "You  boys 
are  always  snappin'  at  each  other.  A  out- 


200  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

sider  would  think  you  was  in  business  to 
gether  or  something.  How  is  everything, 
Alex?" 

"Fine!"  he  says,  rubbin'  his  hands  to 
gether  and  castin'  a  hungry  eye  over  the 
bacon  and  eggs.  "I  already  had  a  breakfast 
fit  for  a  king,  but  the  early  mornin'  air 
gimme  a  fresh  appetite.  I  think  I  could 
stand  a  little  of  that  bacon  and — ' 

"They's  only  one  piece  left,"  I  says,  spear- 
in'  it  with  my  fork.  "Try  and  get  it!" 

"Will  you  be  still?"  says  the  wife.  "We 
have  plenty  in  the  ice  box,  Alex,  if  you  want 


some." 


"Don't  be  blowin'  about  how  much  food 
we  got  in  the  ice  box,"  I  says.  "They  may 
be  some  spies  from  Hoover's  office  around." 

"That  reminds  me,"  says  Alex,  makin' 
the  best  of  it  by  devourin'  all  the  crackers 
and  jam.  "I  expect  to  go  to  Washington 
this  week  and  offer  my  services  to  Mister 
Hoover." 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  201 

"What  was  you  thinkin'  of  doing  for  Mis 
ter  Hoover,  Alex?"  says  the  wife. 

"I  got  a  scheme  for — ,"  he  begins,  when 
I  ceased  firm'  on  the  bacon  and  eggs  and 
arose. 

"Listen !"  I  butts  in.  "I  don't  like  to  walk 
out  in  the  middle  of  your  act,  Alex,  but  I 
gotta  date.  I  have  just  bought  a  infielder 
from  Jersey  City  which  they  tell  me  is  a  sec 
ond  Ty  Cobb.  The  last  guy  which  come 
recommended  to  me  like  that  acted  like  hit- 
tin'  the  ball  was  a  felony  and  he  must  of 
figured  that  droppin'  grounders  put  Cobb 
over.  I  have  give  everything  but  the  fran 
chise  for  this  new  bird,  and  I  wanna  see 
right  now  if  he's  one  of  them  things  or  a  ball 
player." 

"Don't  make  no  engagements  for  to 
night,"  says  the  wife,  "because  we're  goin' 
to  the  movies  with  them  lovely  Wilkinsons." 

"Who's  them  lovely  Wilkinsons?"  I  says. 

"You  could  spend  a  year  at  the  bottom 


202  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

of  the  ocean  and  never  get  acquainted  with 
a  fish!"  says  the  wife.  "The  Wilkinsons 
is  the  people  which  just  moved  in  across  the 
hall.  Her  husband  is  a  salesman  for  a  big 
wholesale  clothing  house  downtown  and  if 
you're  nice  to  him  he  can  prob'ly  get  you 
a  raincoat  or  something,  for  a  great  deal 
different  price  than  you'd  pay  yourself." 

"Yeh,"  I  says.  "It  would  no  doubt 
cost  me  about  ten  bucks  more,  if  I  bought 
it  from  him!  I  know  them  birds.  That 
guy  will  gimme  his  card  and  send  me  down 
to  the  foundry  where  he  works,  and  they'll 
sell  me  somethin'  which  has  graced  their 
shelves  for  the  last  ten  years,  at  ten  per  cent 
over  the  retail  price.  The  public  will 
laugh  me  outa  wearin'  it  and,  on  top  of  that, 
this  guy  will  want  the  first  five  rows  at  the 
world's  series  for  doin'  me  the  favor! 
Anyways,  I  don't  need  no  raincoat,  I  got 
two  already." 

"I  never  seen  nobody  like  you,"  says  the 
wife.  "I'll  bet  you  think  the  war  was  a- 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  203 

frame-up!  Accordin'  to  you,  nobody  or 
nothin'  is  on  the  level,  and  the  whole  world 
and  Yonkers  is  out  to  give  you  the  work.  I 
have  already  talked  with  Mister  Wilkin 
son,  which  is  a  nice  little  innocent  fellow 
and  not  a  brute  like  you  which  battles  night 
and  day  with  his  wife,  and  he  will  have  a 
raincoat  up  here  for  you  to-morrow." 

I  throwed  up  my  hands! 

"How  much  is  it?"  I  says. 

"Practically  nothin',"  says  the  wife. 
"Forty-five  dollars." 

Oh,  boy! 

"Listen!"  I  says,  openin'  the  door.  "Un 
less  that  bird  has  give  you  his  age  in  mis 
take  for  the  price  of  the  raincoat,  you  can 
tell  him  that  if  I  had  forty-five  bucks  to 
hurl  away  like  that  I  wouldn't  wear  no  rain 
coat.  I  wouldn't  care  if  it  rained  or  not!" 

"It's  one  of  the  latest  trench  models," 
says  the  wife.  "I  got  two  of  them.  One 
for  myself." 

"You  and  that  lovely  little  Wilkinson  will 


204  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

have  to  shoot  craps  for  them  then!"  I  hol 
lers.  "I  wouldn't  let  him  take  me  for 
ninety  bucks  if — " 

"They  are  both  paid  for  long  ago,"  smiles 
the  wife,  pinchin'  my  cheek,  and  pullin' 
the  smile  that  used  to  get  her  photo  in  the 
magazines.  "I  give  him  a  check  last 
week!" 

As  unfortunately  I  am  nothin'  but  hu 
man,  I  beat  it  before  they  was  violence  and 
bloodshed.  I  was  afraid  to  trust  myself 
with  speech,  but  I  managed  to  let  off  a  little 
steam  before  I  left  by  throwin'  three  pil 
lows  and  a  Rumanian  beer  stein  at  Alex, 
havin'  caught  him  grinnin'  at  me  like  a 
idiot. 

It  was  about  six  hours  before  I  got  back 
and  my  temper  had  failed  to  improve  with 
age,  havin'  had  a  rough  day  at  the  ball  park. 
We  played  a  double-header  with  the  Phil 
lies  and  lost  a  even  two  games.  Both  the 
scores  sounded  more  like  Rockefeller's  in 
come  tax  than  anything  else.  Iron  Man 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  205 

Swain  pitched  the  first  game  for  us  and  be 
fore  five  innin's  had  come  and  went,  I 
found  out  that  the  only  thing  iron  about 
him  was  his  nerve  in  drawin'  wages  as  a 
pitcher.  Everybody  connected  with  the 
Philly  team  but  the  batboy  got  a  hit  and 
from  the  way  them  guys  run  around  the 
bases  it  looked  more  like  a  six-day  race  than 
a  ball  game! 

I  sent  in  Red  Mitchel  to  pitch  the  second 
half  of  the  massacre,  and  all  he  had  was  a 
boil  on  his  arm.  As  far  as  his  offerin's  was 
concerned,  everybody  on  the  Philly  club 
could  of  been  christened  Home  Run  Baker. 
When  he  throwed  the  ball  on  the  club 
house  roof  tryin'  to  get  a  guy  nappin'  off 
first,  lettin'  in  two  extry  runs  instead,  I  went 
out  to  the  box  and  removed  him  by  hand. 
Ed  Raymond  finished  the  game  for  us,  and 
he's  so  scared  we  might  win  it  that  he  walks 
the  first  three  men  and  knocks  the  fourth 
guy  cold  with  a  inshoot.  I  didn't  even  stay 
to  see  the  finish — I  had  enough! 


206  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

One  of  the  features  of  the  day  was  the 
work  of  this  so-called  "Second  Ty  Cobb" 
at  short.  He  come  to  bat  eleven  times  in 
the  two  games  and  got  one  hit.  That  was 
a  left  jab  from  the  Philly  first  baseman 
which  got  peeved  at  bein'  called  a  liar  and 
bounced  one  off  the  Second  Ty  Cobb's  ear. 
At  fieldin'  he  made  more  errors  than  the 
Kaiser  and  was  just  as  popular  with  the 
crowd.  I  give  up  five  thousand  berries 
and  a  outfielder  for  him,  and  after  them 
two  games  I  couldn't  of  sold  him  as  a  watch 
charm  to  the  manager  of  a  high  school 
club! 

From  all  of  this  you  may  get  an  idea  of 
the  sweet  humor  I  was  in  when  I  blowed 
into  the  flat  that  night.  My  idea  was  to 
put  on  the  feed  bag,  and  then  go  around 
to  the  corner  and  play  a  little  pinochle  with 
the  gang.  Like  the  guy  which  fell  off 
Washington's  Monument  I  was  doomed  to 
disappointment,  because  they  was  quite  a 
little  reception  committee  awaitin'  me. 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  207 

Among  them  present  besides  the  wife  was 
Alex  and  them  lovely  Wilkinsons. 

The  lovely  Wilkinsons  consisted  of  the 
regular  set — husband  and  wife.  They  had 
only  been  wed  about  three  weeks,  new  time, 
and  from  the  way  they  behaved  towards 
each  other,  a  innocent  bystander  would 
think  they  had  only  staggered  away  from 
the  altar  a  hour  before.  They  sit  together 
on  the  sofa,  three  indies  closer  to  each  other 
than  the  paper  is  to  the  wall  and  both  of 
them  must  of  been  palmists  judgin'  from 
the  way  they  hung  on  to  each  other's  hands. 
The  male  of  the  layout  is  a  husky  kid  which 
either  come  direct  from  one  of  the  college 
football  teams  or  had  just  knocked  off  posin' 
for  the  lingerie  ads  in  the  subway.  The 
female  would  of  been  a  knockout,  if  my  wife 
had  been  in  Denver,  but  bein'  in  the  same 
room  with  her  the  best  Mrs.  Wilkinson 
could  do  was  to  finish  a  good  second.  They 
is  one  thing  about  the  wife,  they  may  be 
dames  which  can  knit  sweaters  faster  than 


208  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

her,  but  when  it  comes  to  bein'  excitin'  to 
gaze  upon  she  leads  the  league!  I  don't 
have  to  tell  the  world  that,  the  world  keeps 
tellin'  it  to  me.  This  here  is  far  from  our 
first  season  as  matrimoniacs,  and  when  I  say 
that  it  still  makes  me  dizzy  to  look  at  her, 
you  may  get  a  idea  of  how  she  checks  up. 

But  to  get  back  to  them  lovely  Wilkin 
sons,  they  are  sittin'  there  on  the  sofa  keep- 
in'  a  close  eye  on  each  other,  and  Alex  is 
givin'  'em  everything  he's  got  in  the  line 
of  chatter.  They're  both  payin'  the  same 
undivided  attention  to  him  that  the  Board 
of  Aldermen  in  Afghanistan  pays  to  the 
primaries  in  Bird's  Nest,  Va.  Them 
babies  is  too  busy  gazin'  on  each  other  and 
bein'  happy,  and  while  that  stuff  gets  silly 
at  times — they  is  worse  things  than  that. 

After  we  have  got  the  introductions  all 
took  care  of,  the  wife  rushes  me  down  to 
Delicatessen  Row  to  grab  off  some  extry 
food  on  account  of  these  added  starters  at 
our  modest  evenin'  meal.  I  got  a  armful 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  209 

of  these  here  liberty  links,  nee  frankfurters, 
and  some  liberty  cabbage  Which  before  the 
Kaiser  went  nutty  was  knowed  as  sauer 
kraut.  They  ain't  no  use  callin'  off  all  the 
other  little  trinkets  I  got  to  help  make  the 
table  look  tasty,  especially  as  Mister  Hoover 
is  liable  to  scan  this  and  I  don't  wanna  get 
myself  in  wrong,  but  when  I  got  through 
shoppin'  I  didn't  have  enough  change  left 
out  of  a  five-case  note  to  stake  myself  to  a 
joyride  in  the  subway. 

Just  as  we're  goin'  to  the  post  in  this  sup 
per  handicap,  the  bell  rings,  and  in  come 
Eve,  which  same  is  no  less  than  the  blushin' 
bride  of  Alex.  They  is  now  so  many  peo 
ple  in  the  flat  that  for  all  the  neighbors 
know  I  have  opened  up  a  gamblin'  dive  or 
one  of  them  cabaret  things.  Everybody 
is  talkin',  with  the  exception  of  me,  which 
havin'  sit  down  to  eat  proceeded  to  do  so 
with  the  greatest  abandon,  as  the  guy  says. 
Them  three  girls — the  wife,  the  lovely  Mrs. 
Wilkinson  and  Eve,  was  sure  some  layout 


210  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

to  have  across  the  table,  I'll  tell  the  world 
fair!  They  had  the  front  row  of  the  Fol 
lies  lookin'  like  washwomen  durin'  the  rush 
hour,  and  all  I  did  was  sit  there  and  eat 
and  wonder  how  in  Heaven's  name  they  ever 
come  to  fall  for  a  set  of  guys  like  me,  Alex 
and  the  lovely  Wilkinson. 

Well,  the  meal  come  to  an  end  without 
no  violence,  and  they  was  only  one  time 
when  it  seemed  like  boxin'  gloves  would  be 
needed.  Even  that  wasn't  exactly  my  fault. 
From  the  general  chatter  of  the  lovely  Wil 
kinson,  I  figured  him  as  a  big,  fatheaded, 
good-lookin'  bonehead  whose  greatest  trick 
so  far  had  been  marryin'  his  wife.  He  got 
my  goat  a  coupla  times  hand  runnin'  by 
dealin'  himself,  first,  the  last  piece  of  bread 
and,  second,  the  last  potato  on  the  table. 
Either  one  of  them  things  would  of  enraged 
me  by  themselves,  but  pullin'  'em  together 
was  a  open  dare  to  me  to  commit  homicide. 
I  laid  for  him  for  a  half  hour  and  fin'ly  I 
get  a  openin'. 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  211 

"Mister  Wilkinson  is  packed  to  the  ears 
with  ambition,"  says  the  wife  to  me  across 
the  table.  "He  expects  to  fall  into  a  lot  of 
money  very  shortly." 

"I  don't  see  how  they  can  be  no  room  for 
him  to  be  packed  with  nothin'  else,"  I  says, 
"after  all  the  meat  and  potatoes  he  put  away 
to-night.  And  as  far  as  that  fallin'  into 
a  lot  of  money  is  concerned,  he  must  be  fig- 
urin'  on  stumblin'  at  the  door  of  the  mint, 
hey?" 

They  is  a  dead  silence  and  the  lovely 
Wilkinson  give  a  nervous  snicker  and  piled 
up  his  plate  with  liberty  links  and  cabbage 
to  hide  his  confusion.  Alex  laughs  like  a 
hyena  and  Mrs.  Wilkinson  looks  even  pret 
tier  when  mad  than  she  did  when  tryin'  to 
be  a  charmin'  guest.  The  wife  gimme  a 
glance  that  would  of  killed  a  guy  with  a 
weaker  heart  and  tries  to  laugh  it  off. 

"You  mustn't  mind  him,"  she  says. 
"He's  always  kiddin'  that  way  about  every- 


212  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

thing.  Really — I'm — I'm  so  angry  I  don't 
know  what  to  do!" 

"I'll  tell  you  what  to  do,"  I  says.  "See 
if  you  can  get  the  embargo  lifted  on  that 
food  down  at  your  end  of  the  table  and  ease 
a  little  nourishment  up  here!" 

"He  oughta  leave  the  table!"  remarks 
Alex. 

"You  ain't  talkin'  to  me!"  I  says.  "I'm 
wonderin'  if  you  guys  will  leave  the  table 
or  not.  You  already  have  eat  everything 
else!" 

"That's  right !"  says  the  wife.  "Go  ahead 
and  advertise  the  fact  that  I  have  married 
a  roughneck!" 

"My  neck  must  of  got  that  way  from 
wearin'  that  sweater  you  knit  me,"  I  says. 
"Hey,  dearie?" 

Eve  gimme  a  laugh,  but  I  seen  the  wife 
was  gettin'  ready  to  bring  up  the  heavy  ar 
tillery  so  I  laid  off. 

While  the  girls  is  seein'  what  soap  and 
water  will  do  to  a  pail  of  dishes,  I  released 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT1  213 

some  cigars  and  us  strong  men  had  a  even 
stronger  smoke.  The  lovely  Wilkinson 
seems  to  have  somethin'  on  his  mind  and 
says  practically  nothin',  both  when  he 
talked  and  when  he  didn't.  Alex  kids  me 
about  my  ball  team  and,  fin'ly,  the  house 
hold  cares  bein'  attended  to  in  the  kitchen, 
we  all  set  sail  for  the  movies. 

The  wife  calls  me  aside,  gimme  a  kiss 
and  says  for  me  to  buy  the  tickets.  Of 
course  after  she  done  that  I  don't  have  to 
tell  you  who  pushed  the  quarters  in  under 
the  cashier's  window.  The  picture  we  seen 
was  one  of  them  forty-eight  reel  thrillers 
and  was  called  "Lunatic  Lily's  Lover"  or 
somethin'  like  that.  They  was  a  guy  killed 
in  every  reel  but  the  first  one.  They  was 
three  killed  in  that.  The  picture  must  of 
been  made  by  the  local  branch  of  the  sui 
cide  club,  assisted  by  a  lot  of  candidates  for 
the  insane  asylum.  I'll  tell  the  world  that 
the  guy  which  wrote  the  scenario  had  at 
least  delirium  tremens.  The  girls  thought 


2i4  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

it  was  great,  but  I  knew  better  and  put  in 
my  time  figurin'  out  on  the  back  of  a  en 
velope  how  many  games  we  had  to  lose  to 
be  in  last  place  by  August. 

The  lovely  Wilkinson  gets  very  talkative 
once  inside  the  theatre.  He  starts  right  in 
on  the  picture  and  claims  it's  a  awful  thing. 
Every  time  a  guy  goes  over  a  cliff  or  dives 
off  of  a  bridge  and  all  the  salesladies  and 
bankers  sittin'  around  us  gasps  out  loud,  he 
speaks  up  and  says  it's  all  faked  with  a  trick 
camera  and  they  ain't  none  of  them  really 
doin'  nothin'  at  all.  He  claims  he's  got 
a  friend  which  used  to  sell  tickets  for  a 
movie  theatre  and  he  told  him  all  about  it. 
The  more  stunts  the  hero  of  this  picture 
does,  the  worse  the  lovely  Wilkinson  gets, 
and  it  ain't  long  before  he  has  captured  the 
goat  of  friend  Alex,  which  is  champion 
moving  picture  fan  of  the  United  States 
and  Coney  Island.  When  the  lovely  Wil 
kinson  claims  that  nobody  in  real  life  could 


How  perfectly  sweet!      If  you  two  only  knew  what  a 
pretty  picture  you  make!"      See  page  277 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  215 

do  the  tricks  this  movie  hero  was  pullin' 
off,  Alex  butts  in. 

"How  do  you  know  them  things  can't  be 
done?"  he  says. 

"Anybody  but  an  idiot  could  see  that  I" 
says  Wilkinson.  "The  idea  of  trying  to 
make  intelligent  people  believe  that  this 
fellow  with  his  hair  brushed  back  like  a 
rabbit's  could  sell  one  of  those  wealthy  mil 
lionaires  gold  mines  and  the  like.  Why, 
he'd  be  thrown  out  of  the  office  and— 

"No  wonder  you  ain't  a  success!"  butts 
in  Alex. 

The  lovely  Wilkinson  shows  a  little  spirit. 

"How  do  you  know  I  ain't  a  success?" 
he  says.  "I'm  making  my  good  twenty-five 
dollars  each  and  every  week." 

"Yeh?"  sneers  Alex.  "I  once  heard  tell 
of  a  feller  which  was  makin'  thirty,  but  I 
ain't  sure  of  it  because  none  of  the  news 
papers  said  a  word  about  it."  He  turns 
around  and  lowers  his  voice  on  account  of 


216  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

some  hisses  comin'  from  fans  in  the  back. 
"Look  here!"  he  says.  "All  jokes  to  one 
side,  they  ain't  nothin'  that  this  feller  done 
in  the  picture  that  can't  be  done  by  any 
body.  A  man  can  do  anything  he  wants  to, 
anything,  they  ain't  no  limit — if  he's  got 
enough  sand  to  fight  his  way  through  what 
ever  stands  in  his  way  I  I  don't  care  what 
the  thing  is  he  wants,  a  man  can  get  any 
thing  if  he  keeps  tryin'  and— 

"You  hate  yourself,  don't  you?"  butts  in 
the  lovely  Wilkinson,  peevishly.  "I  sup 
pose  you  think  you  could  do  anything— 

"I  do  not,"  says  Alex.  "I  know  it!  I 
ain't  talkin'  about  myself  though,  I'm  talk- 
in'  about  you.  You're  a  young  married  fel 
ler  with  a  sweet,  beautiful,  and,  for  all  I 
know,  sensible  little  wife.  You  people  are 
just  startin'  out,  and  I  want  to  see  you  make 
good.  I  think  you  got  the  stuff  in  you 
somewheres,  but  not  to  be  rough  or  nothin' 
of  the  sort,  I  must  say  you  have  been  a  suc 
cess  at  concealin'  it  so  far.  Twenty-five 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  217 

dollars  a  week  ain't  enough  wages  for  no 
body — as  long  as  they's  somebody  makin' 
twenty-six — understand?  And  if  you  get 
where  they  pay  you  twenty-five  dollars  a 
minute  instead  of  a  week,  you  wanna  try  and 
make  'em  think  you're  worth  thirty!  The 
mistake  you  and  a  lot  of  young  fellers  make 
is  quittin'  at  a  given  point.  They  ain't  no 
point  to  quit!  I  bet  when  you  was  makin' 
eighteen  dollars  a  week  you  hustled  like 
blazes  to  make  twenty,  but  when  you  got  up 
to  twenty-five  you  prob'ly  told  yourself  that 
you  was  makin'  as  much  as  most  of  the  boys 
you  knew  and  more  than  some,  so  why  wear 
yourself  out  and  slave  for  a  fatheaded  boss, 
eh?  Right  in  sight  of  the  grandstand  you 
blew  up  and  quit  in  the  stretch.  I  bet  you 
think  right  now  that  you're  makin'  good  be 
cause  you're  holdin'  down  the  job,  hey? 
That  ain't  makin'  good,  that's  stealin'  the 
boss's  money — petty  larceny,  and  deprivin' 
your  future  kids  of  a  even  chance — a  felony! 
Give  the  boss  everything  you  got,  and  he'll 


218  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

pay  for  it.  If  he  don't,  get  out  and  dive  in 
somewheres  else!  They  ain't  no  place  on 
earth  where  they  ain't  a  openin'  for  a  live 
one  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night!" 

The  lovely  Wilkinson  says  nothin'. 

Pretty  soon  and  much  to  my  delight,  this 
here  picture  comes  to  a  end,  and  while  we're 
goin'  out  in  the  lobby,  the  lovely  Wilkinson 
calls  his  wife  aside  and  whispers  somethin' 
in  her  ear.  It  ain't  over  a  second  later  that 
we're  all  invited  up  to  the  Wilkinson  flat 
for  a  little  bite  and  the  like  before  retirin'. 

The  girls  starts  a  hot  and  no  doubt  in- 
terestin'  argument  about  how  many  purls 
make  a  knit  and  so  forth,  and  the  lovely 
Wilkinson,  after  fidgetin'  around  a  bit,  calls 
us  into  another  room.  He  closes  the  door 
very  careful. 

"I  got  something  very  personal  and  very 
important  I'd  like  to  speak  to  you  about," 
he  says  to  Alex. 

"I'll  go  out  on  the  fire  escape,"  I  says. 

"No!"  he  says.     "I  want  you  to  stay  and 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  219 

hear  this  too."  He  turns  to  Alex  again. 
"I  been  thinking  over  what  you  said  in  the 
theatre  to-night,"  he  begins,  "and  I  guess 
you're  pretty  near  right  about  me.  How 
ever,  I  have  a  big  chance  now  to  make  good 
and  get  out  of  the  twenty-five  dollar  class, 
only,  as  usual,  luck  is  against  me." 

"They  is  no  such  thing  as  luck,"  says 
Alex.  "Forget  about  that  luck  thing,  put 
the  letter  *P'  before  the  word  and  you  got 
it!  That's  the  first  rule  in  my  booklet, 
'Success  While  You  Wait.'  I  must  send 
you  one." 

"Thanks,"  says  the  lovely  Wilkinson. 
"You  see,  I'm  a  salesman  for  a  big  whole 
sale  clothing  house  downtown  and  right  at 
the  beginning  of  the  war  I  went  up  to  Platts- 
burg  to  try  for  a  commission  in  the  army. 
I  was  rejected  on  account  of  a  bad  eye. 
While  I  was  up  there,  I  met  Colonel  Wil 
liams,  who  is  now  practically  in  charge  of 
the  buying  of  equipment  for  the  army.  I've 
been  trying  for  months  to  land  the  over- 


220  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

coat  contract  for  my  house  and  last  week 
I  finally  got  things  lined  up.  I  have  got 
to  have  one  thousand  of  our  storm-proof 
army  coats  in  Washington  by  five  o'clock 
to-morrow  afternoon.  At  that  time, 
Colonel  Williams  will  see  me  at  the  War 
Department  and  I  can  give  him  prices  on 
various  lots  and  so  forth." 

"Why  do  you  have  to  bring  that  many 
coats  down?"  asks  Alex.  "Wouldn't  a 
couple  be  enough  for  a  sample?" 

"No,"  says  Wilkinson.  "These  coats  are 
to  be  given  to  men  in  a  cantonment  near 
Washington,  where  they  will  get  actual 
wear  under  varying  conditions.  If  I'm  not 
in  Washington  with  them  at  five  to-morrow, 
I'll  lose  my  chance  because,  the  following 
day,  men  from  four  rival  houses  have  ap 
pointments  with  the  Colonel." 

"Well,"  I  butts  in,  "what's  stoppin'  you 
from  goin'  to  Washington?" 

"Nothing  is  stopping  me"  he  says,  "but 
I  can't  get  the  coats  down  there  with  me  in 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  221 

time !  The  two  shipments  that  we  have  sent 
by  freight  have  gone  astray  somewhere  and, 
as  government  supplies  have  the  right  of 
way  over  all  other  shipments,  the  express 
companies  will  not  guarantee  a  delivery  at 
any  set  time." 

"But  them  coats  are  government  supplies, 
ain't  they?"  says  Alex. 

"Not  yet!"  says  the  lovely  Wilkinson. 
"Not  until  they  are  accepted.  Right  now 
they  are  nothing  but  samples  of  clothing. 
I've  gone  into  that  part  thoroughly." 

Alex  gets  up  and  walks  around  the  room 
a  coupla  times,  throwin'  up  a  smoke  screen 
from  his  cigar.  Then  he  stops  and  looks 
at  his  watch. 

"It's  now  almost  eleven  o'clock,"  he  says. 
"Where  are  them  coats?" 

The  lovely  Wilkinson  looks  puzzled. 

"Why,"  he  says.  "Why — they're  in  our 
stock  room  at  245  Broadway." 

"Can  we  get  in  there  to-night?"  asks  Alex, 
reachin'  for  his  hat. 


222  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"I  have  a  key,"  says  Wilkinson,  "but  I'm 
afraid  I  don't  quite  get  the  idea.  I— 

"Look  here!"  says  Alex,  very  brisk. 
"I'm  goin'  to  deliver  you  and  one  thousand 
of  them  overcoats  outside  the  War  Depart 
ment  in  Washington  at  five  o'clock  to-mor 
row  afternoon!  What  will  you  get  if  you 
land  this  order?" 

The  lovely  Wilkinson  leaps  out  of  his 
chair. 

"Why— I—,"  he  splutters,  "I— get  fif 
teen  per  cent  if — but  you  can't  get  the  coats 
there,  it's  impossible!  Why — " 

"Never  let  me  hear  you  use  that  word 
'impossible'  again!"  snorts  Alex.  "Speak 
United  States!  I  spent  a  half  hour  to-night 
tellin'  you  that  a  man  can  do  anything  if  he 
wants  to.  Now  look  here,  they  ain't  no 
time  to  lose.  I'll  land  you  and  your  coats 
in  Washington  to-morrow  on  time.  That 
will  cost  your  firm  around  a  thousand  dol 
lars — the  same  bein'  the  price  of  the  means 
of  locomotion.  I  will  take  your  word  of 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  223 

honor  that  you  will  pay  me  twenty  per  cent 
of  any  profits  you  make  on  any  order  you 
take  as  a  result  of  my  efforts.  Is  it  a  bar 
gain?  Speak  quick!" 

"If  you  are  thinking  of  getting  a  special 
train,"  says  Wilkinson,  "it  can't  be — " 

"Yes  or  no!"  hollers  Alex.  "I'll  take 
care  of  the  rest!" 

"Yes!"  yells  the  lovely  Wilkinson,  jump- 
in'  around  like  some  of  Alex's  pep  has  en 
tered  his  system.  "If  you  put  this  over  for 
me,  I'll  give  you  half  of  anything  I  get!" 

"You're  gonna  put  it  over  yourself!" 
says  Alex.  "Now  listen  to  me.  You  grab 
a  taxi  and  beat  it  down  to  your  stock  room. 
Get  them  overcoats  ready  and  in  about  a 
hour  I'll  call  there  for  you.  We're  goin' 
to  Washington  to-night  and  don't  be  over 
five  minutes  sayin'  good-toy  to  your  wife!" 

"But—  "  says  Wilkinson,  lookin'  like  Alex 
had  him  hypnotized. 

"Git!"  bawls  Alex,  and  slams  a  hat  on  the 
lovely  Wilkinson's  head. 


224  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

Well,  within  four  minutes  the  lovely  Wil 
kinson  has  beat  it,  leavin'  behind  a 
astounded  and  weepin'  wife  and  Alex  is  on 
the  phone  callin'  up  the  Gaflooey  Auto 
Company's  service  station  and  in  ten  min 
utes  more  he  has  arranged  to  have  a  truck 
and  a  mechanic  chug-chuggin'  outside  the 
house.  Then  he  turns  to  me. 

"Here  is  another  chance  for  you  to  lose 
some  dough,"  he  says.  "I'm  gonna  take 
Wilkinson  and  his  trick  overcoats  down  to 
Washington  by  way  of  a  auto  truck.  If  we 
leave  here  at  midnight,  we  got  about  seven 
teen  hours  to*make  225  miles,  that's  an  aver 
age  of  around  thirteen  miles  a  hour.  The 
Gaflooey  one-ton  truck  can  make  twenty,  if 
chased.  Of  course  we  may  hit  some  bum 
roads  or  lose  the  carburetor  and  so  forth, 
which  might  delay  us  some.  What'll  you 
bet  I  don't  put  this  over?" 

I  walked  over  to  the  window  and  looked 
out  at  New  York.  They  is  one  of  them 
rains  fallin'  that  generally  plays  a  week 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  225 

stand  before  passin'  on  to  the  next  village. 
I  figured  that  trip  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
the  rain  and  the  tough  goin'. 

"Gimme  a  proposition,"  I  says. 

"All  right,"  says  Alex.  "Me  and  Eve 
needs  some  furniture  for  the  library.  I'll 
bet  you  fifteen  hundred  against  a  thousand 
that  I  get  Wilkinson  in  Washington  in  time 
to  put  over  his  deal." 

"I  got  you,"  I  says.  "If  he  gets  there  too 
late  to  put  over  anything  with  the  War  De 
partment,  I  win — right?" 

"Correct!"  says  Alex.  "And  now  have 
Cousin  Alice  put  up  some  sandwiches  and 
the  like  for  us.  I  got  a  lot  to  do!" 

Well,  at  five  minutes  to  twelve  that  night 
they  was  a  Gaflooey  truck  gasolined  its 
merry  way  aboard  a  Forty-second  Street 
ferry.  On  board  it  was  Alex,  the  lovely 
Wilkinson,  one  thousand  storm-proof  army 
overcoats  and  yours  in  the  faith. 

I  ain't  liable  to  forget  that  trip  for  a  long 
while  to  come,  because  I  got  soaked  to  the 


226  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

skin — with  water — and  just  missed  gettirT 
pneumonia  by  one  cough.  The  rain  kept 
gettin'  worse  and  worse  and  it  hadn't  a 
thing  on  the  roads.  We  went  through 
Trenton,  N.  J.,  along  around  4  a.  m.  in  a 
storm  that  would  of  made  the  Flood  look 
like  fallin'  dew.  The  mud  is  up  over  the 
hubs  of  the  truck,  but  it  keeps  plowin'  along 
at  a  steady  gait  with  Alex  and  the  mechanic 
takin'  turns  at  the  wheel.  I  crawled  in 
under  some  of  them  one  thousand  overcoats 
at  Philly  and  went  to  sleep,  the  last  I  heard 
bein'  the  lovely  and  half-drowned  Wilkin 
son  callin'  out  the  time  every  fifteen  minutes 
and  moanin',  "We'll  never  make  it!" 

Mornin'  brung  no  let  up  in  the  rain,  but 
the  old  Gaflooey  truck  keeps  thunderin'  on. 
Sometimes  we  done  five  miles  a  hour,  some 
times  twenty  and  when  this  big  'baby  was 
goin'  twenty,  believe  me,  it  was  rough  sled- 
din'!  We  run  into  a  bridge  at  Wilming 
ton,  Del.,  and  at  Baltimore  we  bumped  a 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  227 

Flivver  off  of  the  road,  but  outside  of  that 
they  was  nothin'  but  rain  and  mud  and  the 
lovely  Wilkinson  complainin'  about  the 
dampness,  like  he  was  the  only  one  that  was 
gettin'  a  endless  cold  shower. 

It  was  twenty  minutes  of  five  when  we 
rolled  into  the  city  limits  of  Washington 
and  I'll  tell  the  world  we  was  a  rough  look- 
in'  bunch.  Alex  is  grinnin'  from  ear  to  ear 
and  slappin'  Wilkinson  on  the  back  and  this 
guy  has  perked  up  a  bit,  though  wishin'  out 
loud  that  he  was  home  with  coffee,  bacon 
and  eggs  and  Mrs.  Wilkinson.  I  am  curs- 
in'  the  day  that  ever  brung  Alex  into  our 
family  circle  and  wonderin'  if  death  by 
double  pneumonia  is  painful.  The  me 
chanic  is  fallin'  asleep  at  the  wheel,  wakin' 
himself  up  from  time  to  time  with  shots  out 
of  a  flask  and  of  lemon  ice-cream  sodas  or 
somethin',  he  had  on  his  hip. 

We  stopped  in  front  of  the  War  Depart 
ment  and  Alex  says  we  better  straighten  up 


228  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

ourselves  and  the  overcoats  before  callin' 
on  Colonel  Williams.  At  that,  the  me 
chanic  falls  off  the  seat  and  dives  into  a 
restaurant  and  we  go  back  to  look  at  the 
coats. 

"If  any  of  us  had  any  brains,"  says  Alex, 
jerkin'  a  coat  off  the  pile,  "we  would  all  of 
worn  one  of  these  here  things  and  kept  nice 
and  dry — Sufjerin  mackerel!"  he  winds  up 
all  of  a  sudden. 

Me  and  the  lovely  Wilkinson  swings 
around  and  there's  Alex  holdin'  up  the  coat. 

Oh,  boy!!!!! 

This  here  storm-proof  army  coat,  which 
Wilkinson  hoped  to  unload  on  the  U.  S. 
army,  just  simply  fell  apart  in  his  hands! 
He  grabbed  another  and  another — and 
they're  all  alike.  The  rain  has  took  all  the 
color  outa  them,  they  have  shrunk  till  they 
is  hardly  enough  cloth  to  accommodate  the 
buttons  and  the  linin's,  which  was  supposed 
to  be  leather,  has  fell  right  to  shreds  from 
the  water.  All  in  all,  they  was  nothin'  but 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  229 

a  mess  of  soggy,  muddy  rags  which  no  self- 
respectin'  junk  dealer  would  of  took  for  a 
gift! 

The  lovely  Wilkinson's  face  is  a  picture. 
He's  as  pale  as  the  mornin'  cream  and  I 
thought  for  a  minute  he  was  gonna  bust  out 
cryin'.  I  couldn't  help  feelin'  sorry  for 
the  kid,  but  when  I  thought  of  that  wild 
night  ride  through  the  rain  and  mud  to 
bring  this  bunch  of  garbage  to  Washington, 
I  wanted  to  laugh  out  loud!  And  then  I 
remember  Alex  bettin'  me  Wilkinson  would 
take  the  order,  and  I  haw-hawed  myself 
silly,  right  there  in  the  street. 

"Shut  up!"  barks  Alex,  swingin'  around 
on  me.  "This  here  is  far  from  a  laughin' 
matter.  It's  pretty  serious  business!"  He 
turns  to  Wilkinson  and  shakes  him  by  the 
shoulder.  "Young  man,"  he  snaps,  "is  that 
the  kind  of  stuff  you  were  goin'  to  put  on 
our  boys  which  fought  for  you  in  France?" 

Wilkinson  is  lookin'  at  the  coats  like  they 
fascinated  him. 


23o  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Why — why  this  is  terrible!"  he  stam 
mers,  fin'ly.  "They  told  me — why — Good 
Heavens,  you  don't  think  /  knew  these 
things  were  made  up  like  this,  do  you?" 

Alex  studies  him  for  a  minute. 

"No,"  he  says,  "I  don't!  You  don't  look 
like  you'd  do  that,  anyways.  What's  the 
name  of  your  firm?" 

"Gerhardt  and  Schmidt,"  says  Wilkin 
son.  "I  know  it  sounds  German,  but  both 
members  of  the  firm  have  been  naturalized 
and—" 

"Never  mind  that,"  says  Alex.  "Even  if 
it  wasn't  no  worse  than  a  scheme  to  clean  up 
on  a  government  contract,  I  think  the  Se 
cret  Service  will  be  interested  in  seein'  them 
coats!" 

The  lovely  Wilkinson  sits  right  down  on 
the  curb  and  buries  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"Good  night!"  he  moans.  "I'm  done  for 
now.  I  thought  this  was  going  to  be  a  big 
thing  for  me  and— 

Alex  slaps  him  on  the  back. 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  231 

"No  whinin',"  he  says.  "We're  still  in 
Washington — you  can't  tell  what  might 
happen  yet." 

"You  can  gimme  that  fifteen  hundred 
berries  right  now  if  you  want,  Alex,"  I  says, 
"because  I'm  gonna  grab  the  next  train  for 
Manhattan.  This  is  one  that  beat  you 
and—" 

"Ssh !"  says  the  lovely  Wilkinson,  jumpin' 
up  suddenly.  "Here  comes  Colonel  Wil 
liams  himself!" 

We  looked  around  and  sure  enough 
there's  two  army  officers  walkin'  over  to  the 
War  Department.  When  they  got  oppo 
site  us,  Wilkinson  braces  himself  and  steps 
forward. 

"Pardon  me,  Colonel,"  he  says.  "I'm 
Mister  Wilkinson  of  Gerhardt  and  Schmidt. 
I  had  an  appointment  with  you  to-day  at 
five  to  show  you  those  army  coats." 

The  Colonel  looks  at  him. 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  says,  very  pleasant.  "Just 
step  inside,  Mister  Wilkinson.  I'll  see  you 


232  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

in  my  office.  You  are  very  prompt.  You 
must  have  been  caught  in  the  downpour— 
you're  soaking  wet." 

"Yes,   sir,"  says  Wilkinson.     "I — ah— 
Colonel,  I  don't  think  there's  any  use  of  me 
stepping  into  your  office." 

"Eh — why  not?"  says  the  Colonel. 

Wilkinson  turns  several  of  the  popular 
colors. 

"I — ah — the  fact  is,"  he  says,  "our  coat 
is  not  what  the  United  States  government 
wants,  Colonel.  I  didn't  know  it  at  the 
time  I  solicited  the  contract — I — I've  just 
found  it  out.  We  brought  the  required 
number  of  coats  down  here  by  auto  truck, 
not  being  able  to  get  them  here  on  time  by 
freight  or  express.  The  trip  was  made  in 
yesterday's  storm  and" — he  points  to  the 
mess  on  the  truck — "there's  the  coats!" 

The  Colonel  examines  a  couple  of  them 
soggy  rags  and  he  gets  very  severe.  I 
heard  him  say  somethin'  that  sounded  like 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  233 

"Damn!"  a  couple  of  times,  and  then  he 
turns  to  Wilkinson. 

"This  is  a  matter  for  the  Department  of 
Justice,"  he  says.  "You  will  leave  the 
truck  and  its  load  right  here,  Mister  Wil 
kinson,  and  I'll  personally  see  that  it's  taken 
care  of.  Your  action  in  coming  direct  to 
me  with  this  evidence  is  commendable. 
You  may  telegraph  your  firm  that  the 
United  States  government  is  holding  this 
shipment  for  investigation.  I'm  sorry  for 
your  sake  that  this  happened,  as  I  had  all 
but  made  up  my  mind  to  give  you  the  con 
tract.  If  you  desire  to  see  me  further,  I'll 
be  in  my  office  until  six." 

With  that  he  stamps  away.  The  other 
officer  who  was  with  him  has  been  walkin' 
around  the  Gaflooey  truck  all  the  time  and 
examin'  it  like  it's  the  first  auto  he  ever  seen 
in  his  life. 

"Pardon  me,"  he  says  to  Wilkinson,  "did 
I  understand  you  to  say  that  you  made  the 


234  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

trip  from  New  York  yesterday  in  the  storm 
on  this  truck?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  says  Wilkinson. 

The  officer  pulls  out  a  notebook. 

"What  time  did  you  leave  New  York?" 
he  asks,  very  businesslike. 

Wilkinson  tells  him.  Then  the  officer 
asks  if  we  had  any  trouble,  how  much  gas 
and  oil  we  used,  what  was  our  average  speed 
and  a  million  other  things.  Alex's  eyes  be 
gin  to  dance  around,  and  he  winks  at  me  like 
there's  somethin'  in  the  air.  Fin'ly  the  of 
ficer  walks  away,  after  thankin'  the  lovely 
Wilkinson  for  the  information. 

"Now!"  hollers  Alex,  grabbin'  Wilkin 
son's  arm.  "You  win!" 

"Win?"  moans  Wilkinson.  "I'll  be 
lucky  if  I  don't  go  to  jail!" 

"You're  crazy!"  bellers  Alex,  gettin' 
more  and  more  excited.  "You  had  nothin' 
to  do  with  this  thing — you  didn't  know  the 
coats  was  no  good.  Forget  about  that,  the 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  235 

thing  is  you  got  a  chance  right  now  to  put 
over  a  bigger  thing  than  them  overcoats. 
You  come  here  to  make  a  sale,  didn't  you? 
All  right,  go  to  it!  That  officer  is  con 
nected  with  the  purchasin'  department  of 
the  government,  and  he  wasted  a  lot  of  time 
talkin'  to  you  about  that  truck.  Do  you 
realize  what  a  wonderful  thing  that  was  to 
get  down  here  O.  K.  in  that  terrible  storm 
yesterday?  No — you  don't,  'but  he  did! 
Right  now  he's  got  that  there  truck  on  his 
mind.  Go  after  him  before  he  gets  inside 
the  buildin'  and  make  your  sale!" 

"But,"    says    Wilkinson,    kinda    dazed, 
"what  have  I  got  to  sell?     The  overcoats 


are—" 


"Damn  the  overcoats!"  hollers  Alex. 
"Sell  him  the  truck  that  brought  'em  down 
—they  ain't  nothin'  wrong  with  that!  If 
it's  good  enough  for  a  trip  like  that,  it's 
good  enough  for  the  army,  ain't  it?  Hurry 
up  and  make  an  appointment  with  him  for 


236  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

to-day,  and  I'll  get  you  the  figures  on  the 
Gaflooey  truck  for  a  hundred  or  a  million 
—I  know  'em  by  heart!" 

"By  Heavens,  I'll  chance  it!"  says  Wil 
kinson,  and  runs  after  the  officer. 

Comin'  up  on  the  train  that  night  I  sit 
in  the  smoker  and  write  Alex  my  check  for 
a  thousand  berries.  They  was  no  two  ways 
about  it  as  he  showed  me,  because  he  had 
bet  he  would  make  Wilkinson  put  over  a 
sale  in  Washington.  He  didn't  say  what 
he  had  to  sell.  The  lovely  Wilkinson, 
which  has  sent  about  five  dollars'  worth  of 
night  letters  to  his  wife,  is  sittin'  on  the 
other  side,  delirious  with  joy  and  with  a 
order  in  his  pocket  for  one  thousand  Ga 
flooey  trucks  as  per  the  one  we  come  down 
in.  Alex  had  wired  the  Gaflooey  people 
and  had  Wilkinson  appointed  a  salesman 
for  the  Washington  territory  on  his  recom 
mendation.  Them  guys  would  do  anything 
for  Alex,  because  he  put  'em  on  the  map. 
With  telegraphed  credentials  from  New 


YOU  CAN  DO  IT!  237 

York,  the  rest  was  a  cinch  for  even  the  lovely 
Wilkinson,  because  the  truck  sold  itself! 

"They  is  only  one  thing  that  beats  me," 
I  says  to  Alex  before  we  turn  in  on  the 
sleeper.  "Why  didn't  you  sell  the  truck 
and  make  all  the  dough  yourself?" 

"It's  a  good  thing  you  don't  need  brains 
in  your  game,"  says  Alex,  "or  you  and  Alice 
would  starve !  I  wanted  Wilkinson  to  make 
the  sale  all  by  himself,  because  it  will  give 
him  confidence,  and  then,  again,  he'll  ad 
vertise  me.  I  get  half  of  his  commission, 
I  grab  a  bonus  from  the  Gaflooey  people 
for  helpin'  the  sale  along  and  then  there's 
that  thousand  bucks  of  yours,  which  I 
would  of  lost  if  I  sold  the  trucks  myself. 
Also,  I  have  put  Mister  Wilkinson  over, 
and  that's  what  I  started  out  to  do!" 

"You  win!"  I  says.  "I  don't  see  how  you 
get  away  with  it.  It's  past  me!" 

"Huh!"  says  Alex.  "They  ain't  no  trick 
to  it  at  all — why  say,  even  you  could  of  done 
it!" 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT 

THEY's  many  a  guy  clutterin'  up  a  pay 
roll  for  about  thirty  bucks  a  week, 
which  has  got  more  brains  than  his  boss  has 
income  tax.  When  he  went  to  school  they 
wasn't  a  day  that  some  other  kid  didn't 
wanna  murder  him  because  he  got  100  in 
arithmetic  and  the  like.  He  passed  on  to 
high  school  and  even  invaded  college, 
where  he  dumfounded  all  in  hearing  with 
his  knowledge  of — everything!  When  he 
was  fin'ly  turned  loose  on  a  helpless  world, 
he  was  so  far  ahead  of  his  class  that  they 
held  special  services  for  him  and  had  the 
regular  one  the  next  day. 

Now  the  dope  oughta  be  that  this  marvel 
of   intelligence   should   be   down   in   Wall 

Street  now,  tellin'  J.  P.  Morgan  and  etc. 
238 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     239 

that  the  next  time  they  come  in  late  for 
work  he'd  fire  'em.  Well,  about  once  in 
ten  thousand  times  this  is  true.  Usually, 
however,  this  guy  is  the  bird  that  takes  your 
card  at  the  office  door  and  says,  "Sit  down, 
Mr.  Morgan's  fifth  assistant  secretary  will 
see  you  in  a  moment."  And  then  the  head 
bookkeeper  rings  a  bell  and  this  guy  says, 
"Yes,  sir,"  and  jumps! 

They  is  a  reason  for  this,  the  same  as  for 
everything  else  outside  of  the  Kaiser.  The 
swell-dressed  assassin  with  the  ladies,  which 
writes  such  beautiful  figures  and  knows  off 
hand  how  much  is  thirty-three  times  eighty, 
is  fast  joinin'  the  list  of  non-essential  in 
dustrials.  They  got  a  machine  now  which 
can  count  better  than  him,  and  don't  try  to 
make  no  date  with  the  stenographer,  either! 
He  thinks  his  boss  is  a  boob,  because  said 
boss  is  a  little  bit  in  doubt  as  to  what  day 
of  the  week  Napoleon  joined  the  army,  and 
he  wonders  how  in  heaven's  name  a  guy  as 
stupid  as  that  ever  got  as  far  as  he  did.  The 


24o  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

answer  to  that  one  is  easy.  While  he  was 
memorizin'  the  fact  that  A  plus  C  equals 
X,  his  boss  was  figurin'  how  to  hire  a  brainy 
guy  like  him  to  count  his  dough! 

The  wife  and  I  are  about  to  set  sail  for 
the  movies  one  night,  when  our  French  maid 
from  the  Bronx  admits  a  interruption  by 
the  name  of  Alex 

"Well,"  he  says,  kidnappin'  my  goat  by 
treatin'  himself  to  one  of  my  pet  cigars,  "I 
have  run  across  another  feller  which  I  am  on 
the  verge -of  makin'  a  success.  I've  studied 
his  case  carefully  and  all  he  needs  is  to  be  set 
on  the  right  track  to  bust  all  speed  records." 

"Where  did  you  meet  this  second-story 
man?"  I  says. 

"He  ain't  no  burglar,"  says  Alex;  "he's 
some  kind  of  a  bookkeeper,  and  he's  got 
one  of  the  sweetest  little  girls  in  love  with 
him  you  ever  seen!" 

"I  thought  you  was  married,"  I  says. 

"Now,"  says  Alex,  snubbin'  me  as  usual, 
"I  want  to  bring  him  up  here  to  dinner  to- 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     241 

morrow  night  and  have  you  meet  him  as  he 
is  at  present.  In  a  short  time  later  I'll 
bring  him  back  again,  and  if  he  hasn't  made 
himself  a  success,  I'll  buy  you  all  the  best 
dinner  you  ever  eat!" 

"Listen!"  I  says.  "As  Hoover  says, 
'Food  will  win  the  war — don't  eat  it!' 
Don't  be  invitin'  no  more  guys  up  here  to 
dinner.  It's  tough  enough  to  have  to  feed 
you  three  or  four  times  a  week,  without 
you  ringin'  in  these  guys  which  acts  like  I 
win  them  steaks  and  chops  in  a  raffle.  Now 
I'm  goin'  to  the  movies.  They's  a  five- 
reeler  down  at  the  corner  called  'She  Give 
Her  Soul !'  and  they  ain't  no  man  gonna  keep 
me  from  seein'  that  to-night." 

"Come  along  with  us,  Alex,"  chimes  in 
the  wife.  "A  couple  of  my  girl  friends 
which  used  to  be  in  the  Winter  Garden  with 
me  is  in  this  picture  and  I'm  crazy  to  see 
them!" 

"Hmph!"  snorts  Alex.  "Anybody  is 
crazy  which  pays  money  to  look  at  them 


242  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

fool  movin'  pictures.  If  I  had  my  way, 
they'd  all  be  stopped  and— 

"Lillian  Dish  is  in  this  one,"  butts  in  the 
wife.  "Have  you  seen  her  lately?" 

"No!"  says  Alex,  jumpin'  up.  "By 
mackerel,  I  haven't!  Hurry  up,  we'll  be 
late — you  people  is  never  in  time  for  any 
thing!  Lillian  Dish,  hey?  Say!  Did 
you  see  her  in  'What's  a  Wife?'  She  was 
great!  Why  I—" 

I  dragged  the  both  of  them  out 

Promptly  at  seven  the  next  night  Alex 
comes  up  with  his  new-found  friend.  I  let 
forth  a  groan  and  told  the  maid  to  lay  a 
couple  more  plates,  but  to  slice  everything 
as  thin  as  possible  without  cuttin'  her  hands. 
The  stranger  was  a  tall,  slim  'bird  which 
wouldn't  have  been  bad-looking  if  he 
hadn't  been  so  serious.  He  acted  like  it 
was  a  felony  to  smile,  and  got  my  name 
wrong  the  first  four  times  he  repeated  it. 

Well,  after  the  sound  of  clashin'  knives 
and  forks  had  died  away,  the  wife  dolls  all 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     243 

up  and  goes  over  to  visit  the  hero  which 
wed  Alex;  and  us  strong  men  repairs  to  the 
parlor,  where  the  cigars  clink  merrily  and 
the  like. 

The  stranger's  name  turned  out  to  be  S. 
Jared  Rushton,  and  after  a  while  I  fig 
ured  the  "S"  stood  for  "Silly."  This  guy 
knowed  more  about  figures  than  the  stage 
manager  at  the  Follies.  He  was  a  hound 
for  numbers,  dates  and  etc.  He  had  a  bet 
ter  memory  than  a  loan  shark,  and  a  en 
cyclopedia  would  look  stupid  alongside  of 
him.  No  matter  what  the  subject  was,  this 
guy  knowed  more  about  it  than  the  bird 
which  wrote  it  and  would  butt  in  with  the 
figures  to  prove  it.  Fin'ly,  when  I  struck 
a  match  and  he  tells  me  they  is  9,765,543 
of  them  used  in  New  York  every  fiscal  year, 
I  went  out  into  the  kitchen  for  air! 

At  first  it  was  kinda  interestin'  and  en- 
tertainin'  to  get  the  inside  dope  on  every 
thing  at  practically  no  cost,  but  they  is  such 
a  thing  as  bein'  too  clever;  and  when  it  be- 


244  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

come  impossible  to  speak  of  anything  on 
earth  from  bankin'  to  beer,  without  this 
bird  buttin'  in  with  all  the  figures  on  it,  I 
got  enough!  I  tried  to  yawn  him  into  goin' 
home,  and  he  notices  I  got  two  bum  teeth. 
That  furnished  him  with  a  scenario  for  tell- 
in'  me  that  every  year  490,517  people  is 
treated  by  dentists  in  New  York  alone,  and 
I  says  I  can't  help  it  and  he  mustn't  of  got 
a  wink  or  sleep  the  night  he  counted  'em. 

"Oh,"  he  says,  "it's  very  simple.  I  carry 
all  those  figures  in  my  head." 

"Why  not?"  I  says.  "They's  plenty  of 
room  there!" 

He  looked  kinda  peeved;  but  before  he 
could  come  back  at  me,  Alex  takes  things 
in  hand. 

"Jared,"  he  says,  "you  are  certainly  a 
educated  citizen.  With  all  them  interest- 
in'  facts  and  figures  in  your  head  you  must 
be  very  valuable  to  the  firm  you  work  for, 
hey?" 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     245 

Jared  throws  out  what  chest  he  had  with 
him. 

"Well,"  he  says,  "I  saved  the  Hamilton 
Construction  Company  just  $6,547.98  last 
year  by  cutting  down  the  excessive  use  of 
lead  pencils  and  blotters  alone!" 

'That's  fine!"  says  Alex.  "No  doubt 
they  give  you  a  handsome  bonus  for  that, 
hey?" 

"Of  course,"  says  Jared.  "They  raised 
my  salary  to  thirty-five  dollars  a  week.  I 
was  only  getting  thirty-two  and  a  half." 

"You  saved  them  six  thousand  last  year 
and  they  raised  you  about  a  hundred  and 
thirty,  eh?"  says  Alex.  "Now,  listen! 
Why  couldn't  you  have  made  that  six  thou 
sand  for  yourself  just  as  easy?" 

"Why — I — why—  "  stammers  Jared.  "I 
have  no  chance  to  make  anything  but  my 
salary.  I'm  simply  working  there,  and— 

"And  you  always  will  be,  if  you  don't 
get  wise  to  yourself!"  butts  in  Alex.  "Your 
boss—" 


246  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"My  boss,  eh?"  sneers  Jared.  "Say,  he 
hasn't  got  the  brains  of  a  gnat!  He'd  be 
absolutely  up  in  the  air  if  I  wasn't  at  his 
elbow  with  data  and  estimates  on  every 
thing.  He  doesn't  know  anything,  and— 

"No,  I  guess  not!"  butts  in  Alex,  with  a 
odd  grin.  "He  don't  know  anything— only 
how  to  make  money!  Say,  listen!  If  this 
boss  of  yours  is  such  a  boob,  what  must  you 
be?  You're  luorkin  for  him,  ain't  you? 
Why  should  he  have  any  brains,  when  he 
can  rent  your  for  thirty-five  dollars  a  week? 
Now,  listen  to  me,  son.  You  know  a  little 
about  everything  on  earth,  with  the  slight 
exception  of  yourself!  The  figures  that 
should  interest  you  more  than  anything  else 
is  these:  For  every  dollar  you  make,  your 
boob  boss  is  makin'  a  thousand.  Ever  fig 
ure  them  statistics  along  with  the  other 
stuff?" 

Jared  registers  embarrassment.  "Look 
here!"  he  says.  "I  really  don't  see  the  rea 
son  of  all  this.  I  consider  myself  quite  sue- 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     247 

cessful.  I  may  not  'be  making  a  million  a 
week,  but  I'm  always  sure  of  my  job,  and 
that's  quite  a  lot!" 

"You're  always  sure  of  your  job,  hey?" 
bawls  Alex.  "That's  the  slogan  of  the  quit 
ter!  'I'm  gettin'  my  little  old  salary  fifty- 
two  weeks  a  year,  and  that's  good  enough 
for  me.'  That's  the  motto  of  the  loser." 
With  that  he  jumps  up  and  sticks  his  face 
so  close  to  Jared  I  thought  he  was  gonna 
bite  him  or  the  like.  "What  about  the  fu 
ture?"  he  hollers.  "You  must  have  brains, 
or  you  couldn't  of  collected  that  mass  of 
junk  in  your  dome.  You  got  a  million  dol 
lars'  worth  of  salable  stuff  from  the  top  of 
your  collar  to  the  crown  of  your  derby  and 
you're  peddlin'  it  away  for  thirty-five  a 
week.  I'll  bet  right  now  you  could  pro 
duce  a  scheme  for  gettin'  a  quarter  that 
would  be  unbeatable,  legitimate,  and  suc 
cessful.  But  if  you  was  asked  to  dope  out 
a  scheme  for  gettin'  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars,  the  size  of  the  figures  alone  would 


248  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

knock  that  thinker  of  yours  cold!  You 
can't  think  that  big.  Your  mind's  all  clut 
tered  up  with  little  things.  It's  a  junk  pile. 
The  same  concentration  and  perseverance 
on  some  one  big  thing  would  put  you  over— 
and  if  you  don't  believe  it,  ask  your  boob 
boss,  which  undoubtedly  did  just  that  and 
is  now  keepin'  you!" 

"That's  all  rot!"  remarks  Jared. 
"There's  about  one  chance  in  a  million  of 
getting  over  in  New  York.  You've  got  to 
get  in  right,  and  even  then  it's  largely  a 
matter  of  luck!  If  I  was  ever  asked,  I'd 
tell  every  young  man  to  keep  away  from 
New  York.  The  town's  too  big!  It  swal 
lows  you  up  and  you're  buried  there  till— 

Zam!!!  Alex  bounces  outa  his  chair  and 
shakes  his  ringer  under  Jared's  nose. 

"That's  not  true!"  he  hollers.  "Listen 
to  me,  young  feller!  I  came  here  a  short 
time  ago  with  one-tenth  of  the  ability  that 
you  got.  New  York  looked  as  cold  and 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     249 

hard  to  me  as  it  does  to  any  rube  that  slinks 
in  from  the  outlands,  crazy  with  the  desire 
to  capture  it.  But  instead  of  drivin'  me 
back  to  the  dear  old  farm,  the  tough  con 
ditions  here  attracted  me.  That  is,  takin' 
for  granted  your  statement  that  they  are 
tough,  which  I  don't  believe.  I  know  that 
a  man  with  the  genuine  goods  can  deliver 
them  here  at  top  price  quicker  than  any 
other  place  on  earth." 

"But  wait!"  interrupts  Jared,  seemin'  to 
catch  some  of  Alex's  pep.  "Your  case  was 
exceptional.  You  must  admit— 

"I  don't  admit  nothin'!"  roars  Alex. 
"Suppose  your  argument  is  true.  Let's  say 
the  chances  for  success  here  are  slim.  All 
right,  fine!  That's  what  made  me  stick! 
Your  own  argument  makes  New  York  the 
place  to  make  good  in.  If  there's  satisfac 
tion  in  winnin'  over  one  man  or  a  thousand, 
think  of  a  hard-won  square  victory  over  six 
millions!  Why,  boy,  the  very  quality  of 


250  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

the  competition  here  keeps  a  man  on  his  toes 
and,  if  he  makes  good  here,  he's  done  some- 
thin'!" 

Well,  believe  me,  when  Alex  wound  up 
that  speech  they  was  so  much  pep  in  the 
room  I  felt  like  goin'  out  and  tellin'  Rocke 
feller  I'd  forgot  more  about  the  oil  game 
than  he  ever  knew!  Jared  looks  kinda 
dazed  and  Alex  never  gives  him  a  chance 
to  get  set. 

"How  about — ah — Miss  Evans?"  he  says ; 
"have  you  thought  about  her?" 

"See  here!"  busts  out  Jared.  "We  won't 
discuss  Mab — er — Miss  Evans." 

Alex  grins. 

"That's  fine!"  he  says.  "I'm  glad  you 
got  some  spirit  left;  they's  hope  for  you  yet! 
Let's  see,"  he  goes  on,  like  they  had  been 
no  interruption  at  all,  "how  long  have  you 
known  Miss  Evans?" 

"Over  a  year,"  says  Jared.  "But  I  don't 
see  what— 

Alex  points  a  ringer  at  him. 


251 

"You  love  her,  don't  you?"  he  barks  out. 

"Of  course  I  do!"  mumbles  Jared,  like 
he's  answering  without  knowin'  it. 

"Then  why  don't  you  marry  her?" 

Jared  stares  at  him  like  he's  in  a  trance. 

"Marry  her?"  he  gasps.  "Marry  her? 
Why  if  I  ever  asked  her  that,  she  wouldn't 
even  let  me  call  on  her  any  more!" 

"You're  crazy!"  remarks  Alex  pleas 
antly.  "Now  listen,  son!  You  been  goin' 
around  with  that  girl  over  a  year,  and  if 
she  didn't  reciprocate  your  feelin'  for  her, 
you  wouldn't  of  lasted  that  long.  Jared, 
old  boy,  a  year  is  too  long  to  monopolize  a 
girl  without  declarin'  yourself!  You're 
spoilin'  her  chances,  and  it's  dead  wrong! 
They  is  plenty  of  other  young  men  which 
would  give  their  left  eye  to  take  her  to  the 
movies  and  the  like,  but  they're  layin'  off 
because,  havin'  always  seen  her  with  you, 
they  take  it  for  granted  they  is  no  chance. 
That's  fine  right  now  for  both  of  you; 
but  if  anything  should  arise  that  would 


252  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

make  you  two  part,  it  won't  be  as  easy  for 
her  to  replace  you.  Now  you  need  a  in 
centive,  and  a  strong  one,  to  put  you  across. 
They  is  no  bigger  incentive  on  earth  than 
matrimony.  Go  to  her  and  ask— 

"One  minute!"  butts  in  Jared.  "I  never 
was  talked  to  like  this  in  my  life  before, 
and  why  I'm  permitting  you  to  discuss  my 
personal  affairs,  I  don't  know.  As  long  as 
I  am,  I'll  go  through  with  it.  What  you 
say  may  be  true,  but  this  girl  is  different, 
and—" 

"Jared,"  says  Alex,  "I  don't  doubt  that 
she's  different,  but,  nevertheless,  she's  a 
member  of  the  well-known  female  sex,  and 
I'm  basin'  my  dope  on  that!  I'll  tell  you 
what  I'll  do  with  you.  You  ask  Miss  Evans 
to  marry  you,  and,  if  she  refuses,  I'll  give 
you  a  job  myself  for  fifty  dollars  a  week;  fif 
teen  more  than  you  get  now.  If  she  accepts, 
you  gotta  raise  yourself  by  your  own  efforts 
to  fifty  dollars  a  week  within  six  months,  or 
go  to  work  for  me  for  twenty.  Now  if  you 


Heavens!"    says  the  vampire.  You  must   have  worked  a 

your  life  to  acquire  ignorance,  for  no  one  Avas  ever 

born  as  stupid  as  you ! ' '      See  page  308 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     253 

got  some  red  blood  in  you,  let's  see  it!" 

Well,  Jared  gets  up  and  walks  around 
the  room  for  a  minute  and  fin'ly  he  comes 
over  and  holds  out  his  hand  to  Alex. 

"You're  on!"  he  says.  "Only,  I'll  say 
this:  If  Mabel — er — Miss  Evans,  accepts 
me,  I'll  be  so  happy  that  I  won't  be  good 
for  anything  for  a  month.  If  she  refuses 
me,  I'll  never  be  any  good  any  more! 
However,  I'll  try  it.  Perhaps  I've  been 
asleep.  I  don't  know.  But  if  this  girl  ever 
marries  me—  He  stops  and  bangs  his 
fists  on  the  table.  "Oh,  -boy!!!!"  he  winds 
up. 

Just  then  they  is  a  ring  at  the  telephone. 
The  maid  makes  a  entrance  and  claims  Mr. 
Jared  Rushton  is  wanted.  In  about  five 
minutes,  Jared  comes  back  and  apologizes. 

"My  boss,  Mr.  Hamilton,"  he  says. 
"I've  always  got  to  let  him  know  where  he 
can  get  in  touch  with  me  after  office  hours. 
I  gave  him  your  phone  number  before  I 
came  here  to-night."  He  turns  to  Alex. 


254  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"That's  what  it  is  to  be  a  valuable  man," 
he  says.  "The  boss  wants  me  to  get  all  the 
data  together  for  an  estimate  on  one  of  the 
biggest  contracts  we've  ever  had  a  whack 
at.  That  means  I'll  be  up  all  night,  so  I'll 
have  to  leave  now.  Our  four  big  contract 
experts  are  scattered  'round  the  country  and 
the  boss  will  have  to  go  after  this  one  him 
self  to-morrow.  There  will  be  a  confer 
ence  at  the  Hotel  Dubois,  and — " 

Alex  jumps  up,  his  eyes  flashin'. 

"Why  can't  you  go  after  that  contract?" 
he  shoots  out. 

Jared  looks  like  he's  been  hit  on  the  chin. 

"Me?"    he    stammers.     "Why— why— " 

"Why,  why,  nothinM"  butts  in  Alex. 
"Here's  a  chance  for  you  to  show  Miss 
Evans,  your  boss,  and  the  rest  of  the  world 
what's  in  you.  If  your  boss  calls  on  you 
for  the  figures  in  this  thing,  then  you  must 
know  more  about  it  than  he  does,  or  any 
body  else  in  the  office.  Can  you  get  him 
on  the  phone?" 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     255 

"But — but  I  have  never  sold  anything  in 
my  life!"  says  Jared.  "You  don't  under 
stand  this  thing  at  all.  It  requires  experi 
ence  and — oh,  it's  silly  to  even  think  of  it  I 
Why—" 

"Yeh?"  butts  in  Alex.  "What's  his  num 
ber?"  He  rushes  to  the  phone. 

"Say,  listen — please!"  pleads  Jared;  "it's 
not  a  bit  regular  and — why,  he'd  fire  me  out 
of  hand  if  I  ever  did  anything  like  this!" 

"The  number!"  bawls  Alex,  with  the  re 
ceiver  off  the  hook. 

"Riverside  33,312,"  stammers  Jared, 
wringin'  his  hands.  "But  look  here,  you 
mustn't—" 

Alex  gets  the  number  and  Jared  falls  back 
in  a  chair,  and  mutters  somethin'  about  bein' 
ruined  for  life.  In  another  minute,  Alex  is 
announcin'  to  somebody  that  Mr.  Jared 
Rushton  wishes  to  speak  to  Mr.  Hamilton 
on  a  matter  of  the  greatest  importance. 
Jared  lets  forth  a  wail  like  a  dyin'  fish  or 


256  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

the  like,  and  then  Alex  grabs  him  by  the 
arms. 

"Now,  go  to  it!"  he  says.  "Tell  him  you 
want  a  chance  at  this  contract  yourself.  Say 
you  know  more  about  it  than  anyone  else 
and  have  been  plannin'  the  thing  for  weeks. 
You  don't  think  you  can  land  this  contract 
— you  know  it!" 

"But,"  wails  Jared,  "I  don't  know—" 

Alex  shoves  him  over  to  the  phone. 

Well,  the  funniest  conversation  you,  I,  or 
anybody  else  ever  heard  begins  right  then 
and  there.  Jared  starts  off  kinda  weak  and 
tremblin'  and  I  felt  sorry  for  him,  because 
from  his  answers  it  looked  like  a  cinch  that 
he  was  fired.  Pretty  soon  he  gets  a  little 
stronger,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  was  talkin' 
like  the  boss  was  workin'  for  him!  The 
only  way  I  can  figure  it  is  that  Alex  had 
hopped  him  up  so  much  that  he  got  to 
where  he  believed  himself  that  he  was  the 
only  man  on  earth  that  could  land  this  con 
tract.  When  Jared  says  if  he  don't  get  this 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     257 

chance  he's  gonna  quit  his  job  right  then 
and  there  and  the  boss  can  look  elsewhere 
for  the  estimate  figures,  I  almost  fell  off 
the  couch,  and  Alex  does  a  war  dance. 

Bang!  Jared  slams  down  the  receiver 
and  swings  around  on  Alex. 

"Well,"  he  snaps  out,  "you've  done  it! 
I  am  to  be  at  the  Hotel  Dubois  at  eleven  to 
morrow  to  meet  the  representatives  of  one 
of  the  biggest  steel  concerns  in  the  country. 
I'm  to  take  from  them  a  contract  running 
into  millions.  If  I  don't  get  it,  I'm  fired. 
If  I  do  get  it — well,  there's  no  use  talking 
about  that  part  of  it,  because  I  won't  1" 

With  that  he  sinks  into  a  chair  and  buries 
his  head  in  his  hands.  Alex  keeps  right  on 
top  of  him. 

"Fine!"  he  says,  rubbin'  his  hands  to 
gether.  "Now  call  up  Miss  Evans  and  ask 
her  to  marry  you!" 

"What?"  shrieks  Jared,  bouncin'  up  from 
his  chair.  "What  is  this?  A  nightmare? 
You've  already  probably  cost  me  my  job, 


258  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

and  now  you  want  to  wreck  my  happiness! 
I  was  a  fool  to  listen  to  you.  I — " 

"Sure!"  says  Alex.  "Let's  get  her  on  the 
phone  right  away." 

Jared  looks  wildly  around  the  room  and 
grabs  for  his  hat.  Alex  pushes  him  back  in 
a  chair. 

"Now,  you  listen  to  me!"  he  snarls,  all  the 
grin  gone  from  him.  "You  are  at  this  min 
ute  facin'  the  biggest  thing  that's  ever  come 
into  your  thirty-five-dollar-a-week  life. 
You  got  a  chance  now  to  rise  above  the  mob. 
You  also  got  a  chance  to  marry  what  is  the 
greatest  girl  in  the  world,  accordin'  to  your 
own  admission.  If  you  ask  her  to  marry 
you  before  you  go  after  this  contract  and  she 
accepts  you,  think  of  the  confidence  you'll 
have!  Why,  boy,  if  this  girl  says  she'll 
marry  you,  they  ain't  nothin'  in  New  York 
can  stop  you  from  goin'  over  the  top!  Go 
on  I  You're  all  worked  up  now — go  to  it 
before  you  get  cold!" 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     259 

Jared  grabs  up  the  phone  receiver,  pale 
as  a  ghost. 

"By  heavens!"  he  says.     "I — you — if— 
Gimme  Morningside  77,638,  quick!" 

Alex  closes  the  door  and  pulls  me  into  the 
other  room. 

"That  there's  gonna  be  private,"  he  says. 

"Where  did  you  meet  this  Miss  Evans?"  I 
says. 

"H'mph!"  grunts  Alex.  "I  never  seen 
the  girl  in  my  life!  Jared  simply  told  me 
about  her,  that's  all!" 

"Well,"  I  says,  "you  certainly  have  balled 
things  up.  They  ain't  a  doubt  in  my  mind 
but  that  you've  made  that  poor  boy  lose  his 
job;  and  as  far  as  I  can  see  you're  gonna 
make  him  lose  his  girl,  too!  I'd  hate  to  be 
you  when  he  staggers  away  from  that 
phone!" 

"Yeh?"  grins  Alex.  "Well,  I'll  tell  you 
somethin':  As  long  as  I'm  goin'  to  all  this 
trouble,  I  might  as  well  get  somethin'  outta 


26o  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

it.  I'll  bet  you  ten  thousand  to  five  the  girl 
marries  him  and  he  lands  the  contract.  If 
he  loses  either  one,  or  both,  you  win!" 

"Write  it!"  I  says. 

He  hain't  no  more  than  handed  the  thing 
over  to  me,  when  in  comes  Jared.  His  face 
is  all  flushed  and  he  acts  like  a  guy  walkin' 
in  his  sleep. 

"I  know  neither  of  you  will  believe  it," 
he  says,  in  a  far-away  voice.  "In  fact,  I 
think  I'm  dreaming,  myself!" 

"What  did  she  say?"  demands  Alex, 
shakin'  him. 

"She  said  yes!"  hollers  Jared,  in  a  voice 
that  must  of  woke  up  sleepers  in  Kansas 
City.  "Let  me  have  my  hat,  I  want  to  go 
over  to  her  right  away!" 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  my  dope 
now,  hey?"  says  Alex. 

"I'll  never  be  able  to  thank  you  for  what 
you've  done  for  me!"  says  Jared,  holdin'  out 
his  hand.  "Why,  just  imagine !  This  won 
derful  girl  is  going  to  be  my  wife  and  I  had 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     261 

no  more  idea —  Why,  this  girl  is  as  dif 
ferent  from  any  other  as —  But  you 
wouldn't  understand — ' 

"I  understand  perfect!"  says  Alex,  shakin' 
his  hand.  "And  now  the  next  thing  is  that 
contract,  which  should  be  a  cinch  for  you 
after  what  you  just  done.  Go  over  and  see 
her  now,  but  don't  forget  them  figures  on 
the—" 

"Contract?"  butts  in  Jared,  jammin'  on 
his  hat.  "What's  a  contract  to  me  now? 
I'm  going  to  marry  the  greatest  girl  in  the 
world,  man!  Can  you  imagine  her  accept 
ing  me!  Oh,  boy!  !  I  !  !" 

With  that  he  does  a  few  little  fancy  steps 
around  the  room,  throwing  a  twenty-dollar 
pillow  at  Alex  and  a  'book  at  me. 

This  here's  a  new  angle,  and  Alex  grabs 
him. 

"Look  here!"  he  says.  "I  know  you're 
in  a  hurry,  so  I  don't  want  to  hold  you  up 
now;  but  you  wanna  recover  from  this  here 
till  you  land  that  contract!  You'll  lose 


262  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

your  job  if  you  don't,  and  you  ain't  gonna 
start  off  married  life  outta  work,  are  you?" 

"I  should  worry!"  sings  Jared,  still  one- 
steppin'  about  the  room.  "I  can  get  an 
other  job — forty  of  'em  1  I  can  get  anything 
at  all,  now.  She's  going  to  marry  me,  she's 
going  to  marry  me!" 

He  dashes  for  the  door,  and  Alex  runs 
after  him. 

"What  time  is  the  appointment  with  the 
big  steel  men?"  he  shrieks  in  his  ear. 

"What's  a  big  steel  man  to  me?"  asks 
Jared,  struggling  to  get  away.  "What's 
anything?  I'll  bet  she  would  have  accepted 
me  long  ago  if — " 

"What  time  is  that  conference?"  howls 
Alex. 

"I  care  not!"  sings  Jared,  throwing  the 
phone  book  up  in  the  air,  and  a  idiotic  grin 
at  me.  "I'm  going  to  have  a  quiet  wedding 
and—" 

I  thought  Alex  was  gonna  choke  him! 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     263 

Personally,  I  developed  a  bad  case  of  the 
hystericals. 

"The  time?"  screams  Alex. 

"Eleven  o'clock,"  says  Jared. 

"Will  you  promise  me  on  your  word  of 
honor  to  meet  me  at  that  hotel  at  ten  to-mor 
row,  in  view  of  what  I  done  for  you?"  says 
Alex. 

"Sure!"  hollers  Jared.  "I'll  promise 
anything!  Look  what's  been  promised  to 
me!" 

With  that  he  breaks  away  from  Alex  and 
dives  out  the  door. 

Alex  comes  back  and  sinks  down  into  a 
chair,  wipin'  off  his  fevered  brow  with  a 
handkerchief. 

"That  baby  is  a  plain  nut!"  I  remarks. 

"Whew!"  pants  Alex.  "I  started  some- 
thin'  now,  that's  sure!  Still,  I  don't  blame 
the  boy.  I  felt  the  same  way  when  Eve 
claimed  she'd  wed  me,  and  I  guess  you  did 
too  when  Alice  went  temporarily  insane  and 


264  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

brung  you  into  the  family.  If  I  can  keep 
him  keyed  up  to  that  pitch  to-morrow,  he'll 
land  that  contract,  and  I'll  land  your  five 
thousand!" 

"He  won't  land  nothin'I"  I  says.  "He's 
gone  nutty  now,  and  you'll  be  lucky  if  he 
shows  up  at  all.  This  here's  one  bet  I  win  1" 

"Yeh?"  snaps  Alex,  gettin'  up  and  reach- 
in'  for  his  hat.  "D'ye  wanna  take  five  thou 
sand  more  of  it?" 

"No!"  I  says.     "Goodnight!" 

At  nine  forty-five  the  next  mornin',  which 
is  practically  the  middle  of  the  night  for 
me,  Alex  comes  around  and  drags  me  outta 
bed.  He  says  he's  goin'  down  and  watch 
Jared  put  the  contract  over  and  he  wants  me 
along  to  witness  the  losin'  of  my  bet. 

We  are  in  the  lobby  of  the  hotel  gettin' 
ready  to  have  Jared  paged,  when  along  he 
comes  with  some  dame  he  must  have  kid 
napped  from  the  Follies  when  Ziegfield  was 
busy  countin'  up  the  receipts  or  somethin'. 
I'll  tell  the  world  fair  she  was  some  girl. 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     265 

She's  lookin'  at  Jared  like  he  was  the  elev 
enth  wonder  of  the  world,  and  he's  gazin' 
back  at  her  like  she  was  the  other  ten. 

"Hello!"  hollers  Alex,  grabbin'  Jared's 
hand  and  makin'  believe  it's  a  pump  handle. 
"Congratulations!  I  wish  I  felt  as  happy 
as  both  you  folks  look!" 

"You  couldn't!"  says  Jared,  still  with  that 
dazed  look  on  his  face.  "This  is  my  future 
wife,  gentlemen.  We're  on  our  way  down 
for  the  license  now.  Come  on  along  as 
witnesses.  We're  going  to  be  married 
right-" 

"What  about  that  steel  contract?"  Alex 
butts  in.  "Did  you  get  the  figures  all  to 
gether  last  night?" 

"I  did  not !"  says  Jared.  "What  do  I  care 
about  a  steel  contract?  I  landed  a  bigger 
contract  than  that,  and — " 

"Pardon  me,"  interrupts  the  girl,  with 
her  million-dollar  smile.  "What  is  this 
contract  regarding  the  steel?" 

Alex  tells  her  the  whole  dope  from  start 


266  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

to  finish,  and  when  he  gets  through  the  girl 
turns  to  Jared  and  says  the  followin' : 

"Well,  dear,  I  suppose  this  horrid  old 
business  could  wait,  but  just  run  up  and  land 
that  contract  for  a — a — wedding  gift  for 
me!  It  shouldn't  take  you  very  long.  I'll 
wait  here  for  you." 

Oh,  boy  !  !  !  Talkin'  about  "just  runnin' 
up  and  landin'  "  a  million-dollar  contract 
like  she  was  sendin'  him  for  stamps  or  the 
like! 

"All  right,  honey,"  says  Jared;  "I'll  be 
down  in  five  minutes!" 

They  was  fifteen  minutes  partin'. 

Alex  and  Jared  and  I  got  in  the  elevator, 
and  on  the  way  up  Jared  talked  about  noth- 
in'  else  but  his  comin'  marriage.  When 
Alex  tried  to  butt  in  and  ask  regardin'  the 
estimate  for  this  steel  job,  Jared  gets  peevish 
and  says  that  will  be  a  cinch  and  is  prac 
tically  over  with ;  but  what's  worryin'  him 
is  the  best  place  to  go  for  a  honeymoon! 

We  are  met  at  the  door  of  the  room  by  a 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     267 

little  bald-headed  guy,  and  Jared  intro 
duces  himself,  The  little  guy  looks  at  us 
and  says  he  presumes  we  are  Jared's  asso 
ciates — whatever  that  is.  Before  Jared  can 
deny  the  charge,  Alex  presents  him  with  a 
kick  on  the  shins  and  says  we  are  all  of  that. 

Inside,  they  is  a  long  table  and  four  more 
guys  sittin'  at  it.  They  all  look  like  Wall 
Street  and  large  money,  and  the  table  is  cov 
ered  with  papers.  Jared  sits  down  and  be 
gins  hummin'  "Here  Comes  the  Bride," 
and  we  sit  down  beside  him.  One  guy  gets 
up  and  says  they  have  talked  with  five  big 
contractors  already,  and  they  ain't  made  up 
their  mind  which  bid  to  accept.  If  Jared 
can  show  them  somethin'  better  than  they've 
seen,  the  order  is  all  his.  Jared  pulls  out 
his  watch  and  gets  up. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  says,  "I  have  an  appoint 
ment  with  my  future  wife  in  five  minutes. 
I  will  be  on  time!  I  don't  know  what  these 
other  fellows  have  offered  to  do  for  you,  but 
I'll  say  this:  We  can  erect  your  plant  for 


268  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

exactly  $1,789,451.92.  That's  our  lowest 
price,  and  if  we  talked  all  day  I  couldn't 
take  off  a  cent!  My  concern  is  known  all 
over  the  country  for  the  sterling  quality  of 
workmanship  and  materials  it  employs  on 
every  job,  whether  it's  the  erection  of  a  lamp 
post  or  a  city — and  we've  done  both!  We 
will  be  pleased  to  list  you  among  the  thou 
sands  of  our  satisfied  patrons." 

With  that  he  reaches  for  his  hat  and 
would  of  been  out  of  the  door,  if  Alex  hadn't 
held  him  back  with  a  look. 

"But,"  says  one  guy,  "your  figures  are 
more  than  ten  thousand  dollars  over  your 
nearest  competitor's.  How  about  that?" 
•  Jared  is  starin'  out  the  window. 

"I  figure  we  can  get  a  nice  flat  in  the 
Bronx  for  about  eighty  a  month,"  he  says, 
half  to  himself.  "What  do  you  pay?"  he 
finishes,  turnin'  to  Alex. 

Alex  says  nothin',  and  the  five  guys  look 
at  each  other  kinda  funny. 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     269 

"When  could  your  firm  begin  work?" 
asks  one  of  them. 

"Immediately!"  says  Jared.  "I'm  going 
to  use  your  phone  here  for  a  minute  and 
telephone  my  future  wife.  She's  down 
stairs  waiting  and  will  be  worried  sick — I 
said  I'd  be  right  backl"  He  walks  across 
the  room,  while  them  guys  all  stare  after 
him  like  they're  in  a  trance  themselves. 
"Still,"  mutters  Jared,  "she  mightn't  like  to 
live  in  the  Bronx  at  that!" 

While  he's  on  the  phone,  the  five  guys 
puts  their  heads  together  and  has  a  whis 
pered  conference.  By  the  time  he's  fin 
ished,  so  are  they. 

"Mr.  Rushton,"  says  the  little  guy,  gettin' 
up  and  clearin'  his  throat,  "we  have  decided 
to  give  you  the  contract.  Your  methods  of 
salesmanship  are  somewhat  unusual — but 
they  may  be  due  to  your  extreme  confidence, 
which  anybody  can  see  is  the  right  kind  of 
stuff  in  that  line  and — " 


270  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

The  little  guy  goes  on  with  a  lot  of  talk 
about  figures,  to  which  Alex  and  me  listens 
respectfully  and  Jared  don't  listen  at  all. 
And  fin'ly  the  little  guy  says  again  that 
they're  gonna  give  Jared  the  contract,  and 
mebbe,  if  his  future  wife  is  waiting— 

"Thanks!"  says  Jared.  "She  is  waiting 
and—" 

"Shall  we  draw  up  the  contract  now?" 
butts  in  Alex.  "They's  a  notary  on  this 
floor." 

In  half  a  hour  we  are  down  in  the  lobby 
again,  havin'  had  to  hold  Jared  by  main 
force  long  enough  to  sign  this  thing.  The 
first  guy  we  bump  into  is  his  boss! 

"Where  have  you  been?"  he  hollers  at 
Jared.  "I  suppose  you've  botched  every 
thing  all  up.  I'll  be  the  laughing  stock  of 
New  York!  Where  are  those  figures  for 
that  steel  contract?" 

Jared  looks  at  him  for  a  minute  like,  Who 
is  this  person?  Then  he  reaches  into  his 
pocket  and  pulls  out  the  contract. 


LITTLE  THINGS  DON'T  COUNT     271 

"Here's  your  old  contract!"  he  says. 
"I'm  going  to  take  a  month  off.  I'm  going 
to  get  married.  When  I  come  back  I  want 
seventy-five  dollars  a  week  to  start  and  a  job 
as  head  of  the  contract  department.  And, 
also — don't  never  yell  at  me  like  that  again." 

I  thought  his  boss  would  die  of  apoplexy 
then  and  there.  He  stares  at  Jared,  snatches 
the  contract,  reads  a  few  lines — and  then  I 
got  the  idea  he  was  gonna  kiss  all  of  us! 

"My  boy,  you're  a  wonder!"  he  says.  "I 
always  knew  you  had  the  stuff  in  you!  I'll 
discuss — the — er — the  matter  of  your  salary 
when  you  come  back." 

'We'll  finish  it  right  now!"  butts  in 
Jared.  "I  don't  want  nothing  worrying  me 
while  I'm  on  my  honeymoon.  Do  I  get 
that  or  don't  I?" 

"But,"  stammers  the  boss,  "your  commis 
sion  on  that  contract  alone  will  run — " 

"Yes  or  no!"  says  Jared  very  cold. 

"Yes!"  says  the  boss,  with  a  sigh  that 
could  be  heard  in  Harlem.  "No  wonder 


272  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

you  landed  that  contract  if  you  went  after 
them  that  way!     I've  been  asleep  1" 

"No,"  says  Jared,  "I've  been  doing  the 
dreaming." 


CHAPTER  VII 

ART  IS  WRONG 

EVERY  time  some  guy  goes  over  the  top 
to  notoriety  and  money  in  this  movie 
called  life,  they  is  some  5,678,954  also  rans 
which  wags  their  heads  from  side  to  side 
and  says,  "Well — no  wonder.  He  was 
born  that  way  and  couldn't  help  himself  1" 
Then,  they  go  back  to  their  dub  jobs  and 
wish  they  was  lucky. 

That  stuff  is  all  wrong  I  A  guy  may  be 
born  with  different  color  hair  from  the  next 
guy,  but  he's  never  born  with  any  secret  of 
success  that  the  kid  in  the  adjoinin'  crib  ain't 
got.  All  you  need  to  be  born  with  in  order 
to  get  the  world  familiar  with  your  last 
name  is  the  usual  number  of  arms,  legs  and 
etc.  and  a  mad  habitual  yearnin'  to  make 
good  that  a  sudden  hypodermic  of  success 
273 


274  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

don't  kill.  Anything  but  failure  is  possi 
ble  to  a  hustler,  and  by  a  hustler  I  don't 
mean  one  of  them  breezy  birds  which 
makes  a  lotta  noise,  thinks  they  is  only  one 
letter  in  the  alphabet  and  that's  the  one  af 
ter  "H,"  but  the  guy  which  takes  setbacks 
as  encouragement  and  quits  tryin'  the  day 
the  undertaker  is  called  in. 

They's  many  a  big  artist  whose  ancestors 
thought  paint  was  used  for  the  sides  of 
barns  only,  they's  many  a  famous  actor 
whose  father  figured  Shakespeare  was  the 
name  of  a  puddin',  they's  many  a  big  league 
author  come  from  families  which  confined 
their  readin'  matter  to  the  city  directory, 
and  so  it  goes  all  along  the  line — Colum- 
bus's  old  man  was  a  cotton  picker.  You 
don't  inherit  success,  you  take  it  by  force, 
usin'  your  ambition,  nerve  and  ability  as 
the  weapons. 

The  above  information  was  handed  on  to 
me  by  Alex.  He  says  Broadway  is  too  nar 
row  and  Vermont  moonlight  had  it  lookin' 


ART  IS  WRONG  275 

dark  at  night  and  he  then  proceeds  to  wed 
one  of  the  prettiest  girls  that  ever  looked 
over  the  Winter  Garden  footlights — she 
makes  homemade  bread  now,  too !  The  first 
time  he  went  to  the  Metropolitan  Opera 
House  he  claims  he'd  like  grand  opera  if 
they  wouldn't  sing  and  when  does  the  acro 
bats  come  out,  yet  the  next  week  he's  able  to 
take  a  apartment  on  Riverside  Drive.  This 
here  is  just  a  few  of  the  things  Alex  done 
to  break  up  the  dull  monotony  of  life  in 
a  burg  where  that  and  death  is  mere  inci 
dents. 

The  wife  and  I  is  sittin'  together  in  the 
parlor  one  night  and  she's  knittin'  a  sweater 
for  me  that  will  prob'ly  make  me  off  her 
for  life,  whilst  I'm  readin'  aloud  to  her 
from  the  only  novel  in  which  true  love  and 
the  like  don't  win  out  in  the  end.  It's 
called  "Simpson's  Universal  Educator"  and 
the  subject  we  are  on  is  how  wet  is  the  Pa 
cific,  or  some  such  hot  stuff  as  that.  They 
is  a  ring  at  the  bell  and  the  wife  grabs  the 


276  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

book  outa  my  hand  and  slings  about  thirty 
dollars'  worth  of  wool  over  my  arms. 

"Sit  up  straight,"  she  says,  "and  look  in 
terested  in  this!  You're  helpin'  me  knit — 
get  that?  Look  as  if  you  like  it  and  the 
minute  the  door  opens  call  me  dear." 

"What's  the  idea?"  I  says,  sittin'  there 
with  my  arms  out  straight  and  stiff  before 
me  like  a  doll  or  the  like.  "I  don't  get — " 

"SsshI"  she  whispers.  "That's  probably 
Ruth  Hopper  and  her  husband.  She's  try 
ing  to  get  him  to  quit  playing  pinochle  all 
night  and  she  wants  to  show  him  what  a 
ideal  husband  does." 

"A  pinochle  fiend,  hey?"  I  says.  "Well, 
lead  him  on  I  We  got  a  little  game  down  at 
the  corner  and  he'll  just  make  up  the  set. 
It's  gettin'  around  time  for  me  to  leave  any 
ways.  I  been  in  a  half  hour  now  and — " 

Well,  at  that  moment  our  charmin'  maid 
leads  in  no  less  than  Alex  and  his  wife  Eve. 
Speakin'  of  good  lookers,  this  dame  would 
make  Morgan  forget  about  Wall  Street, 


ART  IS  WRONG  277 

and  she's  wearin'  a  dress  that  must  of  put 
some  Fifth  Avenue  store  over.  But  the 
wife  begins  bein'  pleasant  to  gaze  upon  and 
a  delight  to  the  naked  eye  where  Eve  leaves 
off.  Why,  she's  got  a  movie  contract  which 
she  holds  over  my  head  every  time  I  stay  out 
till  ten  o'clock  and  the  like.  Them  two 
dames  in  the  one  room  is  more  than  the  aver 
age  guy  can  stand  and  how  they  ever  come 
to  fall  for  a  coupla  guys  like  me  and  Alex 
is  a  subject  for  bigger  brains  than  mine. 
They  say  women  is  peculiar,  hey?  Well, 
it's  a  good  thing  for  the  average  guy  that 
they  are! 

"Well!"  remarks  Eve,  lookin'  from  me 
to  the  wife.  "How  perfectly  sweet!  If 
you  two  only  knew  what  a  pretty  picture 
you  make!" 

"Yeh,"  I  says,  gettin'  up  and  dumpin' 
the  near  sweater  on  the  table.  "You'd  al 
most  think  we  wasn't  married,  hey?" 

"Speaking  of  pictures,"  says  the  wife,  al- 
lowin'  Alex  to  kiss  her — a  thing  I  loathe, 


278  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"let's  all  go  down  and  see  Wronged  By 
Mistake.'  They  tell  me — " 

"Nothin5  stirrin',"  I  butts  in.  "I  wanna 
see  Beryldine  Nearer  in  'The  Woman 
Which  Lost.'  She's  some  dame,  believe 
me!  If  I  was  the  leadin'  man  in  her  pic 
tures  I'd  work  for  nothin'." 

"Is  that  so?"  says  the  wife,  her  voice  as 
cold  as  Cape  Nome.  "Why  didn't  you 
marry  her  then  instead  of  me?" 

"She  didn't  ask  me  till  it  was  too  late,"  I 
says,  grinnin'  like  a  wolf. 

"Here,  here !"  says  Alex.  "How  is  it  you 
people  is  always  quarrelin'  every  time  I 
come  here  for  a  visit?" 

"We  figure  you'll  get  sore  and  beat  it," 
I  says. 

"Now,  boys,"  says  Eve,  "let's  forget  we 
are  all  one  family  and  be  friends.  Why 
aren't  you  folks  out  celebratin'  peace  to 
night?" 

"We  wasn't  invited,"  I  says.    "And  I  have 


ART  IS  WRONG  279 

bought  my  last  ticket  from  a  speculator." 

"Invited?"  says  Eve,  which  always  takes 
everything  except  Alex  serious.  "Why,  all 
New  York  seems  to  be  on  Broadway!" 

"That's  what  people  from  Chicago  al 
ways  thinks,"  I  says.  "But  they's  more  to 
the  town  than  that." 

"Oh,  hush  that  near  comedy,"  says  the 
wife.  "C'mon,  we're  going  to  see  Wronged 
By  Mistake.'  " 

"I'll  see  Beryldine  Nearer,"  I  says  in  a 
loud  and  angry  voice,  "or  we  don't  go  no 
where!" 

We  went  to  see  "Wronged  By  Mistake." 

The  movin'  picture  company  which  is  re 
sponsible  for  this  film  claims  it  cost  them 
$100,000  to  make  the  picture.  Maybe  it 
did,  I  don't  know.  What  I  do  know  is  that 
it  cost  me  $1000  to  see  it!  Why?  Lend 
me  your  ears,  as  the  dumb  guy  said. 

The  hero  of  this  here  picture  was  no  less 
than  Carrington  De  Vire.  This  guy's  name 


280  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

is  familiar  in  burgs  where  they  don't  know 
if  Wilson  or  Washington  is  still  president 
of  the  United  States.  His  name  is  on  more 
collars  than  you  ever  seen  and  he  gets  more 
money  a  week  than  you  and  me  makes  in  six 
years,  even  if  you  cut  his  advertised  salary 
in  half.  He's  prob'ly  caused  more  girls  to 
take  their  pens  in  hand  than  any  massage 
cream  in  the  world  and  to  say  he  is  a  hand 
some  dog  is  like  remarkin'  that  the  Grand 
Canyon  is  pleasant  to  look  at.  The  only 
magazine  which  ain't  printed  his  photo  at 
least  once  with  a  auto,  a  country  place  and 
a  coupla  trick  dogs  at  his  side  is  the  Hard 
ware  Trade  Review  and  the  Steam  fitters' 
Friend. 

The  minute  Carrington  De  Vire  appears 
on  the  screen  and  gives  the  natives  a  treat 
by  presentin'  one  and  all  with  a  pleasant 
smile,  the  wife  and  Eve  begins  to  rave  about 
him  out  loud.  He  kisses  the  leadin'  woman 
and  they  let  forth  a  sigh  which  would  of 
made  me  jealous  only  I  got  too  much  brains. 


ART  IS  WRONG  281 

The  villain  slams  him,  prob'ly  because  he 
got  sick  of  lookin'  at  the  big  fathead,  and 
the  women  groans.  He  knocks  the  villain 
kickin'  and  they  applaud  their  hands  off  and 
when  he  fights  his  way  through  a  gang  of 
supes  which  will  lose  their  jobs  if  they  don't 
fall  when  he  hits  'em,  I  thought  most  of 
the  female  part  of  the  audience  would  pass 
away  with  joy! 

"I  think  he's  simply  wonderful,  don't 
you?"  murmurs  Eve  to  the  wife. 

They  is  no  argument  about  it. 

Alex  give  a  snort. 

"If  they's  anything  wonderful  about  that 
feller,"  he  says,  "then  I'm  more  astonishin' 
than  wireless.  Anybody  can  do  that  stuff! 
Why—" 

"Why,  the  idea!"  butts  in  Eve.  "I  ac 
tually  believe  you're  jealous.  I  think  Car- 
rington  De  Vire  is  simply  divine — marvel 
ous!" 

"Wait  till  you  see  Niagara  Falls,"  I  says. 

"Both  of  them  are  jealous,"  says  the  wife. 


282  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"I'm  surprised  at  Alex  saying  that  any  one 
could  act  as  well  as  Carrington  De  Vire. 
Why,  I  think  he's  got  Faversham  beaten  a 
mile.  You  have  to  be  born  with  talent  like 
that!" 

"I  think  the  wife's  right  in  one  thing  at 
last,"  I  says.  "I  like  them  male  movie 
heroes  and  carbolic  acid  the  same  way,  but 
you  got  to  hand  it  to  this  bird — he's  some 
actor!  Yep,  Alex,  you  can't  learn  that  stuff 
out  of  no  book,  you  gotta  be  born  with  it." 

"You're  all  crazy!"  announces  Alex,  with 
another  snort.  "I  can  go  out  right  now  and 
dig  up  a  dozen  fellers  which  never  seen  a 
camera  in  their  life  and  they'll  duplicate 
anything  Carrington  De  Vire  ever  did  on 
a  screen.  Where  does  he  get  off  to  be  won 
derful?  Some  feller  with  brains  writes  a 
play,  another  feller  with  money  puts  it  on 
and  then  another  feller  with  technical 
knowledge  tells  De  Vire,  which  ain't  got 
none  of  them  things,  where  to  stand  and  the 
like  while  he  acts  it.  Why — " 


ART  IS  WRONG  283 

"Ridiculous!"  butts  in  Eve.  "Carring- 
ton  De  Vire  has  extraordinary  talent.  He 
has  thousands  of  admirers  all  over  the 
country.  Why — why — he's  famous!" 

"Of  course,"  says  the  wife.  "It's  too  silly 
to  talk  about.  Alex  has  reached  the  stage 
now  where  he  thinks  he  can  do  anything!" 

"Yeh?"  says  Alex.  "Well,  I  reached  the 
stage  where  I  thought  I  could  do  anything 
about  three  minutes  after  I  was  born!  I'll 
bet  right  now  I  can  go  down  to  the  docks  or 
some  place  and  get  a  handsome  stevedore 
and  make  him  as  big  a  star  as  Carrington 
De  Vire  in  six  months!" 

"Don't  be  idiotic,"  laughs  Eve.  "Imag 
ine  a  stevedore  as  a  moving  picture  star!" 

"Why  not?"  demands  Alex,  lookin'  like 
the  idea  had  made  a  hit  with  him.  "Ain't 
a  stevedore  as  good  as  anybody  else?  I'll 
bet  a  thousand  dollars  even  that  I  can  catch 
one  or  somebody  like  him  and  make  him  a 
movie  star.  What  d'ye  say?" 

"I'll  say  this,"  I  says.     "We  come  here  to 


284  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

see  this  picture  and  not  to  hear  you  make  a 
speech.  This  here's  a  theatre  and  not  no 
race  track  and  forget  about  that  bettin'  thing. 
If  you  can  make  a  movie  star  out  of  a  steve 
dore,  I  can  make  a  watch  outa  a  hard  boiled 

egg!" 

They  is  some  people  behind  us  which  can't 
see  the  picture  on  account  of  us  talkin'  and 
they  begin  to  hiss  at  us.  It  bothers  Alex  the 
same  as  rain  worries  a  duck. 

"Is  they  steam  escapin'  somewheres?"  he 
remarks,  turnin'  his  head.  "Why,  brake- 
men  have  became  railroad  presidents,"  he 
goes  on,  "bootblacks  have  became  bankers, 
prize  fighters  have  turned  evangelists  and 
the  United  States  has  went  dry.  Why 
shouldn't  a  stevedore  become  a  movie 
star?" 

"We'll  all  become  throwed  outa  here  if 
you  don't  keep  quiet!"  I  says. 

"Ssh,  Alex,"  says  the  wife.  "Don't  get 
so  excited  about  it.  There's  no  use  attempt 
ing  the  impossible  and — " 


ART  IS  WRONG  285 

"They  ain't  nothin  impossible!"  butts  in 
Alex.  "I'm  willin'  to  prove  it.  Why  don't 
somebody  bet  me,  hey?" 

"Why  don't  you  hire  Madison  Square 
Garden  for  that  speech?"  hisses  a  guy  be 
hind  us.  "Heavens,  what  a  pest!" 

"Call  the  usher,"  puts  in  a  dame  with 
him.  "Them  people  has  did  nothin'  but 
talk  since  they  come  in  here!" 

"What  d'ye  want  us  to  do — sing?"  growls 
Alex. 

"Alex,  be  still!"  whispers  Eve.  "I've 
missed  the  whole  picture  through  your  talk 
ing.  Now  we'll  have  to  stay  and  see  it  all 
over  again." 

"Have  a  nice  time,"  says  Alex,  gettin'  up 
and  grabbin'  my  arm.  "We'll  wait  outside 
for  you.  One  dose  a  day  of  Carrington  De 
Vire  is  all  I  can  take!" 

The  bunch  in  back  glares  at  us  and  says 
somethin'  about  what  a  crime  it  is  to  let 
drunken  men  come  into  a  theatre. 

Outside  on  the  pavement,  Alex  lets  forth 


286  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

a  snort  and  whiffs  the  fresh  air  like  it  was 
wine. 

"Think  of  my  wife  sittin'  in  there  and 
worshippin'  that  big  stiff,"  he  snarls.  "And 
yours,  too !" 

"We  all  have  our  faults,"  I  says.  "I 
knowed  a  guy  once  which  was  crazy  over 
fried  parsnips." 

"They  ain't  nothin'  to  laugh  at  in  this," 
he  says,  slappin'  his  ha-nds  together.  "I 
ain't  a  jealous  man,  but  no  movie  hero  is 
gonna  be  no  god  to  my  wife!" 

"Why  don't  you  go  in  the  movies  your 
self,  then?"  I  says.  "They  might  hire  you 
for  a  picture  with  Carrington  De  Vire  in  it, 
and  you  can  knock  him  kickin'  in  five  reels 
or  the  like." 

"Huh!"  says  Alex,  "what  do  I  care  about 
the  movies?  I  got  a  better  plan  than  that 
and  it  will  accomplish  the  same  purpose. 
I'll  show  Eve  and  the  rest  of  you  how  easy 
it  is  to  be  a  movie  hero — I'll  make  money 


ART  IS  WRONG  287 

out  of  it,  tool"  he  adds,  with  the  old  glitter 
in  his  eyes. 

"What  are  you  gonna  do?"  I  says. 
"Speak  quick,  I  can't  stand  excitement!" 

For  answer  he  takes  me  into  the  hotel 
across  the  street  and  leads  me  into  the  writin' 
room.  He  sits  down  and  writes  on  a  piece 
of  paper  for  a  minute  and  then  he  hands  it 
to  me. 

"Cast  your  eyes  over  that,"  he  says,  "and 
if  it's  satisfactory — sign  it!" 

This  is  what  I  read, 

"I,  Alex  Hanley,  agree  to  hire  one  hand 
some,  tall  and  perfectly  built  stevedore, 
longshoreman,  truck  driver  or  some  one  en 
gaged  in  a  equally  honest  profession,  one 
who  has  never  appeared  before  a  camera  or 
upon  any  stage  and  who  has  no  knowledge 
of  theatricals,  and  within  six  months  from 
date  to  make  him  a  full  fledged,  acknowl 
edged  star  of  the  moving  pictures. 

"In  the  event  of  said  undertaking  being 


288  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

successful,  the  undersigned  agrees  to  pay 
Alex  Hanley  one  thousand  dollars.  In  the 
event  of  failure,  Alex  Hanley  agrees  to  for 
feit  the  same  sum." 

I  handed  it  back  to  him. 

"Listen!"  I  says.  "Don't  be  a  nut  all 
your  life.  You  got  as  much  chance  of—' 

"Did  you  ever  see  me  fall  down  on  any 
thing?"  he  butts  in,  dippin'  a  pen  in  the  ink 
and  handin'  it  to  me. 

"Not  even  a  banana  peel,"  I  admits. 
"But  they  is  a  limit  to  everything — even  the 
war's  over.  In  the  first  place,  even  if  you 
could  do  this,  it  would  cost  you  more  than 
a  thousand  dollars  and— 

"Leave  that  to  me,"  he  says,  pushin'  over 
the  pen.  "And  sign  here!" 

"But—"  I  says. 

"Hurry  up,  the  ink  will  be  dry,"  he  cuts 
me  off. 

I  give  in. 

"Alex,"  I  says.  "This  is  a  crime!  If  I 
ever  win  one  bet  in  my  life,  I'll  win  this  one. 


ART  IS  WRONG  289 

You'll  make  a  movie  star  outa  a  stevedore, 
hey?  Why—" 

"Want  a  thousand  more?"  he  grins  pleas 
antly. 

"No  I"  I  hollers.  "Let's  go  over  and  meet 
the  girls." 

The  search  for  the  future  king  of  the 
movies  begins  merrily  the  next  day.  I  went 
with  Alex  to  see  that  he  didn't  put  nothin' 
over  on  me  and  at  the  end  of  the  week  he 
had  dug  up  three  promisin'  leads.  They 
was  a  plumber's  helper  which  had  a  won 
derful  figure,  but  a  scar  on  his  cheek  showed 
up  in  a  snapshot  Alex  took  of  him  and  he 
was  laid  aside  with  a  sigh.  Then  they  was 
a  waiter  which  was  better  lookin'  than  Mary 
Pickford,  but  a  trifle  stoop-shouldered. 
The  third  guy  was  hustlin'  baggage  at 
Grand  Central  Station  and  was  a  perfect 
Venus  except  for  some  missin'  teeth  which 
queered  him  when  he  smiled  and  what's  a 
movie  hero  without  a  smile? 


290  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

Well,  I'm  havin'  the  time  of  my  life  kid- 
din'  Alex,  when  one  day  as  we  are  walkin' 
along  Third  Avenue  in  search  of  his  prey, 
he  grabs  me  by  the  arm,  yells,  "I  got  him!" 
and  starts  across  the  street  on  the  run.  They 
is  a  big  truck  standin'  there  and  a  husky  on 
the  back  of  it  is  engaged  in  coaxin'  pig  iron 
off  of  it  on  to  the  street.  He  stood  about 
six  foot  three  without  bein'  shaved  and 
weighed  accordin'ly,  all  bone  and  muscle 
not  countin'  his  head.  He  turns  around 
and— Oh,  boy!!!! 

Say!  I  seen  some  good  lookers  in  my 
time,  male  and  female,  'but  this  baby  had  it 
on  'em  all!  His  hair  is  that  black,  wavy 
kind  that  the  cabaret  hounds  wish  they  had 
and  he's  got  a  skin  like  a  week  old  baby. 
He  must  of  painted  his  teeth  with  enamel 
twice  a  day  and  he's  there  with  a  pair  of 
eyelashes  that  would  make  a  chorus  girl 
take  carbolic.  On  the  level,  he's  so  hand 
some  he  don't  look  real — and  that  with  all 
the  signs  of  honest  toil  at  the  truck  on  him, 


ART  IS  WRONG  291 

too!  Alex  taps  him  on  the  shoulder  and  he 
swings  around. 

"What's  yours?"  he  growls. 

"I  have  come  to  make  your  fortune,"  an 
nounces  Alex  with  a  grin.  Then  he  turns 
to  me.  "Ain't  he  a  peach,  hey?"  he  says. 

The  big  guy  drops  the  pig  iron  and  looks 
from  Alex  to  me. 

"What  kinda  stuff  is  this?"  he  growls. 
"What  d'ye  mean  I'm  a  peach?" 

"You  are  the  luckiest  man  in  New  York," 
says  Alex.  "I  have  come  to  make  you 
famous  and  rich!" 

The  'big  guy  grins. 

"Listen!"  he  says.  "They're  awful 
tough  on  hop  fiends  in  this  burg  now  and 
they'll  be  a  copper  along  in  a  minute,  so  you 
better  duck.  I  know  you  guys  is  no  less 
than  J.  P.  Morgan  and  John  D.  Rockefeller, 
if  not  more,  and  you'll  gimme  a  million  dol 
lars  in  nickels  if  I'll  tell  you  where  to  get  a 
layout.  But  I  ain't  got  the  time,  I  gotta 
get  this  stuff  off  here  and — " 


292  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

With  that  he  turns  around  and  goes  to 
work  again. 

"Drop  that  iron!"  says  Alex.  "You'll 
never  soil  your  hands  with  manual  labor 
again." 

"Hey!"  snarls  the  big  guy.  "Git  away, 
will  you?  I  always  feel  sorry  for  you  dope 
fiends,  but  if  you  guys  don't  lay  off  me,  I'll 
bounce  the  two  of  you.  Now,  beat  it!" 

"Well,"  I  says  to  Alex,  "he's  ignorant 
anyways.  We  got  that  part  all  settled 
and—" 

"Look  here!"  says  Alex,  darin'ly  grabbin' 
the  big  guy  by  the  arm.  "We're  neither 
dope  fiends  nor  maniacs.  I  want  to  ask  you 
a  few  questions  and,  if  your  answers  suit  me, 
I'll  hire  you  for  a  hundred  dollars  a  week 
to  do  special  work  for  me.  To  show  you 
I'm  not  foolin',  take  this  for  your  trouble 
whether  we  do  business  or  not." 

With  that  he  hands  him  a  twenty  dollar 
bill. 

"Aha !"  yells  the  big  guy.     "Coupla  coun- 


ART  IS  WRONG  293 

terfeiters,  hey?"  He  snatches  the  bill  and 
grabs  Alex.  "So  you  guys  want  me  to  pass 
this  for  you — I  got  it!"  He  starts  to  drag 
Alex  along  the  pavement  and  half  Third 
Avenue  stops  to  watch  it.  "I'll  git  a  reward 
for  this!"  I  heard  him  mutter. 

Alex  throws  him  off — he's  stronger  than 
he  looks. 

"You  better  not  take  that  head  of  yours 
into  no  pool  room,"  he  snarls,  "or  some- 
body'll  get  two  billiard  balls  and  play  with 
it  for  a  set.  Take  your  hands  off  me  and 
listen.  That  bill  is  as  good  as  the  inside  of 
a  church.  C'mon  into  this  store  and  I'll 
prove  it!" 

They's  somethin'  about  Alex  that  makes 
this  guy  hesitate,  and  Alex  pulls  him  into  a 
cigar  store,  whilst  I  shoo  away  the  disap 
pointed  crowd  which  looked  for  manslaugh 
ter  at  least. 

In  a  minute  they  come  out.  The  big  guy 
has  twenty  single  bills  in  his  hand  and  a 
dazed  look  on  his  face.  Alex  is  grinnin'. 


294  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Now  are  you  satisfied?"  says  Alex. 

The  big  guy  shoves  the  dough  in  his  over 
alls. 

"The  sugar  seems  O.  K.,"  he  says.  "Say! 
I  gotta  work  a  week  for  that  much  dough,  so 
I  might  as  well  give  you  five  minutes  of  my 
time.  What's  the  idea,  hey?" 

"Now,  Delancey  Calhoun,"  s«ays  Alex, 
"how  would  you— 

"Wait  a  minute !"  grins  the  other  guy.  "I 
knowed  they  was  a  ball  up  somewheres. 
Where  d'ye  get  that  Calhoun  s-tuff?  My 
name's  Tim  O'Toole." 

"Not  no  more!"  says  Alex,  returnin'  the 
grin.     "From  now  on  it's  Delancey  Calhoun 
—get  that?" 

"A  nut  is  a  funny  thing,"  says  O'Toole, 
pressin'  the  dough  in  his  pocket.  "But- 
sure,  I'm  Delancey  Calhoun!  That's  a 
swell  name  at  that — it  sounds  like  a  Lenox 
Avenue  apartment  house.  What  d'ye  want 
me  to  do,  outside  of  that?" 


ART  IS  WRONG  295 

"How  would  you  like  to  be  a  actor?"  says 
Alex. 

"Nothin'  doin'!"  says  Delancey.  "I  got  a 
steady  job  and  I'm  too  fond  of  eatin'." 

"Don't  be  a  fool!"  says  Alex.  "That 
stuff  about  actors  not  eatin'  regular  is  a  thing 
of  the  past.  These  days  a  actor  makes  more 
money  than  a  banker.  Did  you  ever  appear 
on  the  stage  anywheres  in  your  life?" 

"I  did  not!"  snarls  Delancey.  "And  I 
can  lick  the  guy  which  claims  I  did !" 

"Fine!"  says  Alex,  lookin'  at  me.  "Now 
of  course  you've  seen  movin'  pictures,  hey?" 

"Sure!"  says  Delancey.  "What  d'ye 
think  I  am — ig'rant?" 

"Not  at  all,"  says  Alex.  "Do  you  think  if 
you  had  a  chance  and  was  well  paid  for  it, 
you  could  do  the  things  them  heroes  does  in 
the  movies?" 

Delancey  Calhoun,  nee  Tim  O'Toole, 
throws  out  his  chest  from  here  to  South 
Dakota. 


296  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"Do  I  think  so?"  he  says.  "Why,  say, 
pal — that  stuff  would  be  soft  for  me!  I 
ain't  no  second  Mary  Pickford  or  the  like 
and  Chaplin  might  grab  off  more  laughs  to 
the  reel  than  me,  but  when  it  come  to  this 
here  cowboy  and  full  dress  stuff — Oh, 
lady!!!" 

"You're  hired!"  hollers  Alex,  slappin' 
him  on  the  back.  "Startin'  right  now  your 
salary  is  a  hundred  a  week.  Drive  that 
truck  back  to  where  it  belongs  and  throw 
up  your  job." 

"A  hundred  a  week,  hey?"  says  Delancey, 
r-ollin'  his  eyes.  "Oh,  lady!!  In  a  month 
I'll  'have  Carnegie  gnashin'  his  teeth !"  He 
breaks  off  and  swings  around  on  Alex. 
"Look  here!"  he  says,  "I  been  drivin'  this 
truck  for  two  years.  I  got  a  good  steady 
job  from  eight  in  t'he  mornin'  till  ten  at 
night,  and  I  get  twenty  berries  a  week  for 
it.  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  this  nut  job 
of  yours,  but  if  I  don't  get  my  hundred  every 


ART  IS  WRONG  297 

week — well,  they's  gonna  be  a  funeral  with 
you  bein'  featured  in  it,  get  that?" 

"That's  all  right,"  says  Alex.  "I'll  de 
posit  your  first  six  months'  salary  in  the  bank 
for  you — how's  that?" 

"What  could  be  sweeter?"  says  Delancey. 
"They's  just  one  other  thing." 

"Speak  up!"  says  Alex. 

"As  long  as  I'm  gonna  be  a  movie  actor," 
says  Delancey,  "do  I  get  a  dress  suit  to 
wear?" 

"Sure!"  says  Alex.     "Why?" 

"Well,"  grins  Delancey,  "I  never  had  one 
of'them  open  faced  suits  on  in  me  life  and  in 
fact  I  was  savin'  up  to  get  one  now.  I'm 
simply  nutty  to  put  on  one  of  them  layouts 
and  knock  the  innocent  onlookers  silly.  If 
you  hit  a  tough  week,  I  might  take  ninety- 
five  bucks  and  let  the  rest  go  over  a  few  days, 
but  I  gotta  have  the  dress  suit  and  that 
goes!" 

"It's  yours,"  says  Alex,  diggin'  me  in  the 
ribs. 


298  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

"All  right,"  says  Delancey,  "I'll  go  down 
now  and  make  the  boss  faint  by  quittin'. 
I'll  meet  you  anywheres  you  says  to-mor 


row." 


"You  will  not,"  says  Alex.  "I'll  ride 
right  down  on  that  truck  with  you  now!" 

About  two  weeks  later,  Alex  comes  up  to 
the  flat  and  tells  me  to  put  on  my  hat  and 
cane.  He  says  he's  gonna  take  me  over  to 
the  studio  and  show  me  Delancey  Calhoun's 
first  picture. 

"So  you're  really  goin'  through  with  it, 
hey?"  I  says.  "What  company  did  you  get 
him  landed  with?" 

"The  Par-Excellence  Feature  Film  Com 
pany,"  he  says. 

"I  never  heard  tell  of  it,"  I  says.  "Who's 
in  back  of  it?" 

"A  young  feller  by  the  name  of  Alex  Han- 
ley!"  he  comes  back,  grinnin'. 

"What?"  I  hollers.     "D'ye  mean  to  say 


ART  IS  WRONG  299 

you  started  a  movie  foundry  to  put  this  guy 
over?" 

"I'll  leave  it  to  you,"  he  tells  me,  "when 
we  get  to  the  studio.  Let's  go!" 

On  the  way  over  he  shows  me  a  lot  of  the 
advertisin'  copy  with  which  he's  gonna  in 
troduce  Delancy  Calhoun  to  the  waitin' 
world.  I  must  say  it  was  hot  stuff!  It 
claims  that  Delancey  Calhoun  is  the  sole 
heir  to  the  $20,000,000  left  by  the  late  Arte- 
mus  Calhoun  which  died  twenty  years  ago. 
The  will  was  given  to  his  lawyers,  Sandring- 
ham,  Bellew  and  Fitch,  with  instructions 
not  to  open  it  for  twenty  years.  When  it 
was  opened,  it  was  found  that  them  twenty 
millions  was  left  to  his  only  nephew,  De 
lancey.  Alex  has  opened  a  law  office  down 
town  under  the  name  of  Sandringham,  Bel- 
lew  and  Fitch,  so's  to  take  care  of  the  re 
porters  and  other  guys  of  a  inquisitive  na 
ture.  Then  comes  the  kick. 

Delancey,  a  handsome  and  accomplished 


300  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

young  giant,  is  tired  of  the  "sham  and  de 
ceit"  of  his  own  "exalted  social  set"  and  it's 
his  ambition  to  wed  a  girl  of  the  common 
people  and  let  her  enjoy  some  of  the  millions 
his  hard-fisted  uncle  wrung  from  their  toil. 
He  also  has  another  aim  in  life  and  that  is  to 
accomplish  a  sweepin'  reform  of  the  movie 
game.  He's  always  been  a  great  fan  him 
self,  but  he's  sick  of  the  impossible  plays 
which  has  been  foisted  on  a  innocent  and 
nickel  spendin'  public.  Therefore,  he  has 
organized  his  own  movie  company,  will  pro 
duce  his  own  pictures  from  real  life  stories 
of  the  eternal  struggle,  and  last  but  not  least, 
he'll  appear  personally  in  them  himself,  to 
gratify  a  whim  he's  had  since  he  first  looked 
over  the  side  of  a  cradle.  He  thinks  the 
average  movie  hero  is  sickenin',  and  he 
wants  to  show  the  world  how  a  real  hero 
would  act.  He  will  appear  in  twelve  pic 
tures  only.  Each  will  be  a  episode  in  the 
greatest  mystery  story  ever  written  entitled, 


ART  IS  WRONG  301 

"What  was  Hector's  Choice?"  Every  sin 
gle  female  in  the  country  is  invited  to  see 
this  picture  and  send  in  their  solution  of  the 
mystery.  The  one  that  comes  nearest  to  the 
correct  answer  will  become  the  bride  of  De- 
lancy  Calhoun  and  his  twenty  million  bucks. 

Oh,  boy!!! 

"Alex,"  I  says,  "I'll  tell  the  world  this 
is  great  stuff!  It  must  be  gonna  cost  you  a 
bunch  of  money.  Where  do  you  get  off?" 

"Your  head  and  glue  is  the  two  thickest 
things  I  ever  seen,"  he  says.  "Where  do  I 
get  mine,  hey?  I  get  it  from  the  sale  of  the 
pictures  this  bird  makes.  In  a  coupla 
months  they'll  be  riots  in  theatres  all  over 
the  country  to  see  this  guy  in  the  movies!" 

"Maybe,"  I  says.  "But  how  are  you 
gonna  pull  'em  in?  Right  off  the  bat  he's 
gotta  compete  with  Chaplin,  Mary  Pickford 
and  the  like." 

"I  didn't  wanna  spring  my  ace  so  soon  on 
you,"  he  says,  "but  I  guess  I  got  to.  How 


302  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

am  I  gonna  pull  'em  in?  This  way— single 
women  will  be  admitted  free  at  every  theatre 
where  this  picture  is  shown!" 

Wheee!!!! 

"You're  there,  Alex!"  I  admits.  "But 
suppose  the  men  and  married  women  stays 
away?" 

"Stays  away?"  he  says.  "They'll  'break 
their  way  in!  The  married  women  will 
wanna  see  Delancey  and  get  a  idea  of  what 
they  missed,  and  the  men  will  wanna  see 
what  this  big  fathead  looks  like,  if  only  to 
kid  him." 

"What  kind  of  a  actor  is  he?"  I  says. 

"Wait  till  you  see  him,"  says  Alex. 
"He's  got  the  studio  standin'  on  its  ear! 
He  thinks  he's  the  greatest  actor  the  world 
ever  seen  and  everybody  else  from  the  direc 
tor  to  the  camera  men  is  dubs.  He  refuses 
to  fake  any  of  the  fight  scenes  and  I  gotta  pay 
supers  ten  bucks  a  day  to  take  his  wallops. 
The  first  time  he  had  a  love  scene  with  the 
leadin'  lady  he  thought  it  was  on  the  level 


ART  IS  WRONG  303 

and  went  out  and  got  a  marriage  license. 
He  argued  two  hours  in  favor  of  real  bullets 
for  the  duel  he  fights  with  the  villain  and 
refused  to  play  a  scene  supposed  to  be  in 
Alaska  because  the  studio's  in  Jersey.  He 
claims  the  guy  which  wrote  the  scenario  es 
caped  from  a  lunatic  asylum  and  he  plays 
the  second  two  reels  his  own  way.  I've  had 
three  different  oasts  work  with  him  because 
he  gets  them  all  sore  by  his  kiddin'  them 
about  art.  He  takes  everything  in  dead 
earnest  and  tried  to  beat  up  the  villain  on 
the  street  twice  because  he's  supposed  to 
hate  him  in  the  picture.  But — this  first 
episode  is  some  film!!!" 

I  seen  the  picture  in  the  private  projectin' 
room  and  Alex  told  the  truth  when  he  called 
it  "some  film."  In  fact  that  there  would  of 
been  as  good  a  title  for  the  whole  picture 
as  the  one  they  had.  They  was  more  ad 
ventures  happened  to  Delancey  Calhoun  in 
them  five  reels  than  Robinson  Crusoe,  Co 
lumbus,  Kit  Carson  and  Davy  Crockett  had 


304  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

in  their  combined  lives!  He  was  a  heart- 
breaker  one  second  and  a  head-breaker  the 
next.  He  had  insisted  to  Alex  that  one  vil 
lain  wasn't  enough  for  him  to  foil,  so  they 
had  about  a  dozen  and  he  trimmed  'em  all. 
They  was  also  several  heroines  for  him  to 
save  and  clasp  on  his  manly  bosom,  which 
same  he  did-  in  evenin'  clothes  only.  It 
was  nothin'  for  him  to  save  a  maiden  in  dis 
tress  from  a  sinkin'  ship  and  the  next  second 
appear  i-n  a  lifeboat  with  a  dress  suk  on, 
rowin'  for  shore.  No  matter  if  the  scene 
was  mornin'  or  night,  Alaska  or  the  Sahara 
Desert,  Delancey  was  there  in  his  little  dress 
suit.  He  would  of  parted  with  that  and  his 
left  eye  with  the  same  willin'ness. 

Apart  from  the  film  itself,  which  might  of 
been  good  or  might  of  been  bad,  but  cer 
tainly  was  excitin'  for  your  life,  Delancey 
was  a  riot!  He  was  the  handsomest  thing  I 
ever  seen  on  a  screen  and  I  don't  blame  all 
the  dames  in  the  studio  for  fallin'  for  him. 
In  that  treasured  dress  suit  of  his  which  cost 


ART  IS  WRONG  305 

Alex  as  much  as  a  limousine,  they  ain't  no 
woman  on  earth  that  wouldn't  get  a  thrill 
when  she  looked  at  him,  provided  he  didn't 
start  no  conversation.  He  looked  class — 
that's  all  they  is  to  it! 

When  we  come  out  from  seein'  the  pic 
ture,  Delancey  is  walkin'  around  the  studio, 
still  with  the  dress  suit  on.  He's  tellin'  one 
of  the  best  directors  in  the  country  how  to 
properly  produce  a  movie  and  said  director 
is  takin'  it  hard.  He  breaks  off  when  he 
sees  us. 

"Hello!"  he  says.  "Well,  what  d'ye 
think  of  me?  I'm  a  knockout,  hey?" 

"Easily  that,"  I  admits,  shakin'  his  hand. 
"How  d'ye  like  bein'  a  actor?" 

"Rotten!"  he  says.  "This  stuff  is  the 
bunk  and  them  actors  gimme  a  pain.  I 
think  they're  all  nutty.  How  they  get 
money  for  this  hop  is  past  me !  All  I  do  all 
day  is  pretend  I'm  this  and  pretend  I'm  that 
and  the  foreman  of  this  layout  keeps  yellin', 
'Register  fear!'  and  stuff  like  that  at  me.  I 


3o6  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

don't  know  why  this  friend  of  yours  is  givin' 
me  money  for  this,  but  I  bet  they's  a  catch  to 
it  somewheres!" 

"Isn't  he  simply  delicious?"  says  the 
leadin'  woman,  with  a  fond  glance  at  De- 
lancey. 

"Delicious,  hey?"  he  snorts.  "What  d'ye 
think  I  am — a  pie?" 

They  is  a  vampire  there  and  she  turns  up 
her  nose. 

"I  think  he's  impossible!"  she  says.  "He 
hasn't  the  slightest  conception  of  art." 

"Lemme  alone !"  growls  Delancey.  "I'm 
as  good  a  actor  as  you  guys  is,  if  not  better. 
Where  d'ye  get  that  art  stuff?" 

"Heavens!"  says  the  vampire.  "You 
must  have  worked  all  your  life  to  acquire 
ignorance,  for  no  one  was  ever  born  as 
stupid  as  you!  All  you  have  is  your  looks." 

"Yeh,"  snarls  Delancey.  "And  all 
Rockefeller's  got  is  a  billion!" 

At  this  point  Alex  stepped  in  and  pre 
vented  bloodshed. 


ART  IS  WRONG  307 

Well,  Delancey  is  as  big  a  success  as  a 
movie  star  as  Boston  is  as  a  town,  and  within 
a  month  he's  swept  the  country  like  a  new 
dance.  That  stuff  about  him  bein'  a  mil 
lionaire  and  willin'  to  marry  the  girl  which 
guesses  the  answer  to  the  mystery  in  "What 
Was  Hector's  Choice?"  caught  on  with  the 
ladies  like  cold  cream  and  his  handsome 
map  did  the  rest.  His  picture  is  plastered 
all  over  the  country  and  kids  which  barely 
knowed  their  A,  B,  C's,  is  familiar  with  his 
name.  His  mail  arrives  daily  in  freight 
cars  and  Alex  had  four  guys  workin'  on 
nothin'  but  autographin'  his  photos  for  "A 
Admirer"  and  "Your  Unknown  Friend." 
Alex  got  a  quarter  the  each  for  said  photos 
to  cover  the  "wrapping  and  mailing 
charges"  and  made  a  nice  little  profit  on  the 
side. 

With  all  this  success,  though,  Delancey 
Calhoun  kept  his  head.  He  never  appeared 
at  no  banquets,  addressed  meetin's  on  "The 
Future  of  the  Motion  Picture  Industry,"  or 


308  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

as  much  as  glanced  at  the  daily  slew  of  mail. 
When  the  dames  around  the  studio  cast  lan- 
guishin'  glances  at  his  handsome  form,  he 
glared  at  'em  like  a  infuriated  turtle.  If 
one  of  'em  remarked  that  it  was  a  nice  day 
by  way  of  startin'  a  slight  flirtation,  Delan- 
cey  would  answer  that  he  couldn't  help  it, 
and  walk  away.  He  never  spent  a  nickel 
foolishly  or  at  all,  and  when  the  auto  agents 
swooped  down  on  him,  he  borrowed  cigars 
from  them  and  beat  it. 

The  most  astonishin'  thing,  though,  was 
the  way  he  acted  about  the  movies  durin' 
his  career  as  a  star.  He  never  stopped 
claimin'  that  the  whole  thing  was  the  bunk 
and  that  it  was  idiotic  for  a  grown  person 
to  put  on  a  wig  and  take  off  the  old  banker  or 
the  like,  when  they  was  only  a  fifty  buck  a 
week  actor.  He  insisted  that  anything  as 
silly  as  the  movies  was  could  never  last  and 
they  was  more  real  money  in  the  truckin' 
business  for  a  man  that  knew  the  game  as  he 
did  and  had  plenty  of  wagons.  When  Alex 


When  the  dames  cast  languishing  glances  at   his   handsome  form, 
he  glared  at  them  like  an  infuriated  turtle.      See  page  308 


ART  IS  WRONG  309 

argues  with  him  and  says  that  many  of  the 
big  stars  makes  fifty  thousand  a  year,  he 
tells  Alex  to  stop  usin'  opium  because  it'll 
get  him  in  the  end. 

At  the  end  of  three  months,  Delancey  has 
made  Alex  pay  him  a  percentage  of  the  re 
ceipts  and  a  salary  of  a  thousand  a  week,  but 
his  opinion  of  the  movie  business  is  un 
changed.  He  explains  the  fact  that  he's 
makin'  plenty  of  money  out  of  it  by  sayin' 
that  Alex  must  be  takin'  it  out  of  his  own 
pocket  and  is  simply  makin'  pictures  to 
cover  up  his  real  game,  which  is  prob'ly 
safe  crackin'.  Alex  throws  up  his  hands 
and  lets  him  be  after  that  one. 

Fin'ly  the  last  picture  is  made  and  Alex 
gives  out  the  information  to  a  expectant 
world  that  a  girl  in  Brisbane,  Australia,  has 
won  the  guessin'  contest  and  Delancey  Cal- 
houn's  hand,  and  the  famous  star  will  sail 
immediately  to  wed  her.  The  newspapers 
all  prints  pictures  of  'em  both,  Alex  gettin' 
the  lucky  dame's  by  photographin'  his 


3io  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

stenographer.  A  couple  of  papers  didn't 
get  neither  and  runs  pictures  of  Brisbane, 
Australia,  so's  to  be  on  the  job  anyways. 
Then  Alex  collects  the  thousand  bucks  I 
bet  him  that  he  couldn't  make  a  movie  star 
outa  a  truck  driver  and  prepares  to  break 
the  news  to  his  wife  and  mine  that  he  has 
done  the  same.  He  figures  this  will  kill 
forever  their  wild  infatuation  for  Carring- 
ton  De  Vire,  the  idol  of  the  screen. 

At  that  point,  Delancey  Calhoun  walks 
into  the  office. 

"Ah,  Delancey,"  says  Alex,  "I  was  just 
gonna  send  for  you.  Now  that  our  original 
contract  has  expired,  let  me  congratulate 
you.  You  done  great  and  far  better  than 
even  I  expected.  You're  famous  the  world 
over  and  must  have  a  good  sized  bankroll  if 
you've  stayed  in  at  nights  and  kept  away 
from  race  tracks  and  the  like.  I  only  in 
tended  this  as  a  experiment,  but  it  has  gone 
over  so  big  that  I  want  you  to  sit  down  here 
and  sign  a  contract  for  five  years  at  the  big- 


ART  IS  WRONG  311 

gest  salary  you  ever  heard  of.  We'll  make 
the  greatest  pictures  the  world—' 

"Wait  a  minute!"  butts  in  Delancey. 
"Don't  rave  no  more.  My  name  is  Tim 
O'Toole  again  and  not  Delancey,  which 
sounds  like  a  collar.  I'm  sick  and  tired  of 
movin'  pictures  and  that  big  salary  stuff  is  as 
much  bunk  as  the  rest  of  it.  I  ain't  goin' 
around  rescuin'  nutty  dames,  beatin'  up 
supes  which  is  supposed  to  be  the  desperate 
smugglers  and  divin'  off  bridges  no  more! 
I'm  goin'  to  make  a  honest  livin'  and  I've 
bought  out  the  truckin'  business  I  was  work- 
in'  for  when  ^  ou  come  along  and  made  a 
movie  star  and  a  simp  outa  me.  I'll  be 
takin'  in  money  there  long  after  the  movies 
is  gone  and  all  the  pictures  I'll  ever  move 
from  now  on  will  be  loaded  on  one  of  my 
wagons.  Fare-thee-well,  and  I  hope  they's 
no  hard  feelin's.  If  they  is,  I  ain't  gonna 
sob  out  loud  over  it!" 

For  a  minute  Alex  was  speechless.  Then 
he  comes  to  and  work's  a  hour  tryin'  to  get 


312  ALEX  THE  GREAT 

the  ex  -)elancey  Calhoun  to  change  his 
mind.  They  was  nothin'  doin'.  In  fact, 
Delancey  walked  out  and  left  us  flat  in  the 
middle  of  Alex's  wail. 

Well,  anyways,  Alex  still  had  one  satis 
faction  left  and  that  was  to  prove  to  Eve  and 
the  wife  that  he  had  put  over  a  truck  driver 
as  a  movie  star.  He  done  it  after  dinner 
that  night  and  if  he  caused  any  sensation,  I 
failed  to  see  it  with  the  naked  eye. 

"Well,"  says  Eve,  "that  proves  my  argu 
ment." 

"Proves  your  argument?"  hollers  Alex. 
"Didn't  you  claim  movie  stars  was  born,  and 
didn't  I  take  a  truck  driver  and  make  him 
famous  at  it?" 

"Yes,"  says  Eve.  "And  then  he  went 
back  to  the  trucking  business,  because  he 
wasn't  born  an  artist  and  the  whole  thing 
seemed  silly  to  him.  He  couldn't  stand  the 
make-believe  any  longer,  because  he  had  no 
imagination,  no  art — nothing  but  the  stupid 
ability  to  make  money!" 


ART  IS  WRONG  313 

Alex  sinks  down  in  a  chair  and  throws  up 
his  hands. 

"Can  you  beat  a  woman?"  he  asks  me. 

"Not  in  this  state,"  I  says.  "It's  against 
the  law." 

"Come!"  says  Eve.  "You  boys  are  just 
in  time.  Carrington  De  Vire  is  down  at 
the  Palace  in  'The  Arctic  Sunflower.'  I'm 
crazy  to  see  it.  I  think  he's  wonderful  1" 


THE  END 


A     000  833  871     7 


